


Every Relationship Needs a Handkerchief

by ncruuk



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, No Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max(imillian) Walota Joni Vonu Lethbridge-Stewart didn't exactly fit on a handkerchief, so Osgood got him ones with his initials on instead.  Certainly made keeping them separate from Gordon James Lethbridge-Stewart's ones easier when Kate came to do the laundry.</p><p>But Jess Padwinkski, the Tower's newest Exobiologist, didn't know that.</p><p>Yet.</p><p>[Established Kate/Osgood - set in same 'head canon' as my other Kate/Osgood stories]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not a Bet

"Captain Stewart?"

 

"Yes Doctor?"

 

"You can stop pretending you understand now."

 

"Excuse me?" Max was confused, and when he was confused, he unconsciously mimicked his mother, and shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.  Fortunately, prior to transferring from the regular Army to UNIT, he hadn’t been confused all that often, as hands in pockets was most definitely frowned upon in his former regiment.

 

"You've had five minutes of conversation with me, no, I won't give you my number, but yes, you can tell your buddies in Troop that you tried and weren't shot down immediately."  With that, the scientist turned on her heel and strode determinedly down the corridor.

 

"But...."  Baffled, Max watched her walk down the corridor, very clear as to what his alleged crime was, but unclear why he’d been convicted of it, as he had been genuinely interested in the discussion.

 

 

 

Five minutes later, he was still standing there, leaning against the wall, seemingly staring into space when Osgood found him.

 

"Hi Max... what's the matter?"  Yes, he was the 'fearless' Captain Stewart who led the elite sub-group within Troop that were always on call to escort the UNIT Head into whatever chaos the universe threw at them, but he was also Max, who Osgood had known for almost half his life and, whilst he wasn't Kate's biological son, there was a lot of Lethbridge Stewart in him.  Hands in pockets?  Concerning.  Standing totally still?  Worrying.  Staring into space?  She was reaching in her pockets for a chocolate bar or anything with sugar in it to try and kickstart him into life again.

 

"That new scientist... Dr Padwinkski?"

 

"Jess Padwinkski, works in..." Osgood thought for a moment, "...exobiology.  Been here a couple of months.  What of her?"  Osgood took off her glasses and started cleaning them.

 

"She... she thought I was here on a bet."  Osgood looked thoughtfully at him, trying to recollect what his current tone of voice and body language was reminding her of.  And then she realised - Sophie Merson, Lower Sixth... the first girl that broke Max's heart, and she did it by leaving a party with a Lethbridge-Stewart, just not the one that had brought her.  It was one of the few times Osgood remembered the brothers actually having a proper fight, with Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart coming off the worst, which his mother had pointed out rather unsympathetically, was hardly a surprise given he’d knowingly stolen Max’s date.

 

"Why  _ are _ you here Max?" It was not unheard of for Max to be in this section of the Tower - even without considering that her lab was three doors along and his mother's office was one floor ‘up’ (well, technically down, as in deeper underground, but in UNIT parlance, that was 'up' as in more senior, and therefore more restricted).  He certainly had the right to visit the scientists and had the necessary security clearance, but given what Osgood knew about what was going on generally, there wasn’t anything particularly scientific occupying Troop at the moment, making his presence most probably explained by more familial duties but still... mid afternoon on a Tuesday wasn't normal social calling hours in the Stewart family.

 

"I dropped off Mum's bag, and I was then coming by to give you this."  He extracted his hand from his trouser pocket and pulled out her spare inhaler, which she'd left in the kitchen that morning.

 

"Oh, thanks.  Bag?  Oh, right.  Geneva."  Osgood clamped her mouth shut quickly, unable to think of a change of topic but not wanting to dwell on the bag, knowing that Max had to bring Kate's overnight bag in because it was too much for her to bring when she came in on the tube.  And she’d needed to bring the bag because Kate hadn’t taken it with her when she left in the car to go to her meeting in Whitehall because her packing wasn’t finished.  And Kate hadn’t finished packing because she was running late, and that, Osgood knew was unquestionably her fault... and worth it, although she wasn’t going to go anywhere near that as a topic of conversation with Max, ever.

  
  


"Right.”  Max knew better than to mention anything about this morning, which had been unusually chaotic by Stewart standards, given that early meetings in Whitehall and last minute trips to Geneva were not particularly uncommon.  Although, now he thought about it, what was unusual was the lack of hot water when he got up and went to have a shower… and something he was definitely not drawing any conclusions from, ever. Especially considering he had been staying with them because there was no hot water at his place.  “So I was coming along the corridor and Dr Padwinkski literally bumps into me..." 

 

"Ah.”  Osgood put her now very clean glasses back on, looking intently at him, understanding what had happened.  “And she thought you were talking to her as a bet.  Did you explain?"

 

"That I'm a soldier who understands science?  I tried, but she shot me down."  Max had the grace to wince at his accidental pun.

 

"Then you'll just have to try again, won't you?" To Osgood, the solution seemed obvious, and hardly a difficult one to execute - it wasn’t as if he had to borrow a Tardis to fix his difficulty.

 

"Will you talk to her?" he asked, looking at her nervously.

 

"Why would I do that?" Osgood was amused as she recalled that the first time she’d seen him look at her like that.  He was 15: it was less than 6 months after his parents had died and he was still coming to terms, both with their deaths and that he was now living with his best friend Gordy and his mother, who had agreed to his parents’ wish to become Max’s guardian were the unthinkable to happen. On that occasion, he had wanted Osgood to break the news to Kate that a cricket ball, which he’d been trying to throw at a plastic bucket (it was clearly the stumps at the Nursery End at Lord’s, and he was going to run out Ponting off his own bowling), had slipped from his hand and shattered a pane of glass in Kate’s greenhouse.  She hadn’t let him take the ‘easy’ way out then, and 11 years later, she wasn’t going to start.

 

"Because... because you're Osgood not Mum?" he asked, exactly as he had done all those years ago, when he’d been terrified of having to admit to Kate what he’d done and be ‘punished’, not realising that Kate’s form of ‘discipline’ had come in the guise of a tape measure, directions to the local builders’ merchants and some cash.  As far as Kate was concerned, he could break as much of her greenhouse as he liked, as long as he learned how to reglaze the windows… and sorted out his bowling follow-through, as he was continually in danger of running on the wicket.  He mastered the former and focussed on rugby instead.

 

"That didn't work for the greenhouse Max,” reminded Osgood gently, giving him a playful nudge when he looked embarrassed at the memory, “and won't work now.  Anyway,” she added conspiratorially, the tone of her voice changing from one of amused teasing to gentle encouragement, “if I could do it, you can."

 

"If you could do what?” asked a new voice, which echoed a little in the corridor, reminding both Osgood and Max that their conversation had perhaps not been entirely private. “Hello Max."

 

"Oh god... thanks Osgood, I'm... late for drill, bye Mum!" And, in a sudden display of energy and rather muddled thinking, Max notionally came to attention before turning and jogging away from his ultimate Commander, otherwise known as his mother.

 

"Hello... you could do what?" In contrast to her son, Kate put her hands in her pockets as often as she could, but certainly whenever she was relaxed and not in a position to start fiddling with Osgood's scarf which, second only to her girlfriend’s hair, was perhaps her favourite thing to fiddle with.

 

"I could ask an exo, well, occasional, exobiologist out."  

 

Kate thought for a moment, trying to work out what Osgood was talking about, before realising that she must be, for the purposes of whatever point Osgood had wanted to make to Max, the occasional exobiologist.  Being merely a biologist who had, like anyone who’d worked as a scientist for UNIT, worked with extraterrestrial ‘stuff’, she could probably be accused of being an exobiologist, but would never actually describe herself as one.  Therefore, based on the evidence before her, she promptly reviewed what she could remember of the current exobiology team at the Tower, trying to work out what the connection was and why it had even come up.

 

"Padwinkski?" she guessed finally, recalling meeting the latest addition to that department.

 

"Padwinkski.  I think Max likes her," explained Osgood, starting to fuss with her scarf so she didn’t reach forward to fiddle with the buttons of Kate’s pale blue shirt just because they were there and eminently ‘fiddle-able’ with, although professionally she always felt it was preferable if she didn’t.

 

"And she wasn’t so taken?”

 

"Seems so.  He wanted me to talk to her."  Hearing footsteps coming along the corridor, both ladies stepped to the side so that they could continue their conversation once whoever it was (Hertens, hipster Chemist, terrified of both of them) had passed.

 

"Why not me?" Kate wasn’t actually hurt that she wasn’t deemed as ‘suitable’ for the task as her girlfriend, and was asking more as reason to prolong her moment of downtime with Osgood than to actually know the reason.

 

"Because I'm Osgood."

 

"And I'm the Boss?"

 

"Maybe, but more because I'm me."

 

"And I thank the universe daily for that,” said Kate, meaning is sincerely despite the humorous tone that coloured her voice.  “Do I need to talk to him?"

 

"As his Boss or his mother?"  Osgood wanted to know how Kate was considering the situation before she made her recommendation.

 

"Mother.  It's not another Sophie whatnot is it?"

 

"Merson, and as long as you don't let Gordy have access to exobiology to write a feature article I think we're fine.  But maybe you should?" Osgood shrugged, telling Kate everything she couldn't say out loud whilst they were at work, which could primarily be summed up as 'despite what you might think, I don't have any super-powers when it comes to understanding your children, never have done, never will do, but I still love you despite you being a bit of a chicken.'

 

"I'll give it a few days, see what happens.  But good on Padwinkski."

 

"Chicken…”  There were not many people who dared to call a Lethbridge-Stewart a chicken, even fewer who survived the experience with only minimal scarring, but Osgood was one of the rarest of exceptions, in that not only could she get away with calling Kate a chicken, she could also accompany it with a quickly, cheekily stuck out tongue, before sobering just enough to pick up on the second part of Kate’s reply, “...oh? Why are we supporting Padwinkski?"

 

"Good on her for making him work at it."  As soon as she said it, Kate realised she might have done the conversational equivalent of turning up to a gunfight with a teddy bear.

 

"Is that so?"  Osgood’s raised eyebrow was a rarely seen sight, but it conveyed more sarcasm and skepticism than Kate usually managed in a week of dealings with Whitehall.

 

"Yes, well..." Kate tried to look anywhere but her girlfriend.

 

"Voice of experience perhaps?" suggested Osgood, enjoying this unexpected moment of non-work teasing chat with Kate at the Tower, especially given she’d not expected to see Kate until Friday on account of their conflicting Geneva visits.

 

Not seeing any way out of it verbally, Kate took a second to glance to her left and right, satisfied that the corridor was currently deserted.  Then, before Osgood had really noticed what she was doing, Kate stepped forward and slipped her hand into her girlfriend's right trouser pocket where she knew Osgood's emergency handkerchief lived.  Extracting the soft, white cloth, Kate waved it between them.

 

"What are you doing?" asked Osgood, smiling at Kate's silliness in spite of her mock indignation as she reclaimed the handkerchief and put it back in her pocket.

 

"Surrendering."

 

"Because?" teased Osgood, folding her arms and tapping her foot in the universal 'I'm waiting to hear you say it' pose

 

"Because I'm not one to talk, although it could be argued..."

 

"Nope, it could not be argued that you made me work for 'it'.  For the first thirteen months we knew each other you were married."  Even now, more than a decade later, that was a point Osgood was most particular about: Kate had been faithful to her husband during her marriage, and Osgood had never had any relationship other than friendship with a married woman.

 

"And when I wasn't married?"

 

"To quote you, 'I swept' - that's not making me work for it."  

 

"But..." Kate didn't actually know why she was protesting, as Osgood was absolutely correct, but on the other hand, this was far more fun and pleasant than the paperwork in her office.

 

"No buts.  Making me work for it never happened."  Osgood emphasised her point with a little nod of her head, inadvertently testing all of Kate’s self restraint, which was rapidly failing.  Much more of this, and Kate knew she wouldn’t give a damn about professionalism or the fact that they were stood in a corridor at the Tower.

 

"Are you calling me easy?"

 

"Appropriately challenging..." Osgood checked the corridor, pleased to see that it was still unusually deserted, and leant forwards to press a fleeting kiss on her girlfriend's surprised lips, "...and loveable and making me late for a meeting that she does actually want me to go to, otherwise we might blow up something that can't be blamed on WW2 unexploded bombs."

 

"Ah, yes.  Probably.  What might we blow up?"

 

"The London Eye.  And Shard."

 

"At the same time?"  She didn’t want to think about the paperwork she’d have to do if they did actually blow things up on that scale, but Kate was still briefly distracted with trying to picture what would happen if they did, although she was enough of a physicist to acknowledge her mental picture was more cartoonish than scientifically possible: the London Eye was unlikely to fly like a frisbee over London.

 

"Almost.  Depends if we accidentally flattened the South Bank Centre or not."  Explosive forces were much easier to predict and calculate if they were directed in straight lines, which in this case was right through the Royal Festival Hall, rather than around the curves of a bend in the River Thames.

 

"Can you do that deliberately?"

 

"Not even if you ask nicely.  I like it."

 

"Of course you do…” Recognising that they really did need to return to their working day, Kate shifted her thoughts back to her adopted son, “is Max really ok?"

 

"At least until the weekend.”  By which time, both Kate and Osgood would be back from Geneva and, if necessary, Max could be invited round for tea and a talking to. “Now go away!"

 

“Yes Ma’am!” and, with a lazy smile and casual salute, Kate Stewart set off once more down the corridor going to wherever it was she had been headed before she’d bumped into Osgood and Max, hands deep in her pockets looking to all intents and purposes like she was just out for a stroll, leaving Osgood shaking her head in disbelief at her girlfriend’s behaviour - she just hoped Geneva was ready as, when Kate was in that sort of mood, you never really knew what she’d do next. 

 

It was at this moment that Padwinkski reappeared in the corridor - still relatively new to UNIT, she'd yet to really understand Osgood, and, like most of the scientists at the Tower, she hadn't really realised that Kate Stewart was 'one of them', having no real contact with the UNIT Head outside the very quick and formal introduction she’d had as part of her UNIT induction when she joined a couple of months earlier.  It was therefore something of a surprise to see the two of them just outside her lab door, having clearly, thought Padwinkski, had some sort of disagreement given that Kate Stewart had a funny sort of smile on her face and Osgood appeared to be shaking her head, presumably in disbelief at the scientifically impossible demand the UNIT Head had no doubt just made.  However, having an innate sense of self-preservation, she quickly disappeared into her lab, thus avoiding Kate.


	2. Ten Days Later

"You okay Padwinkski?"  As he asked the question, Max offered her his still pristine clean white emergency handkerchief (Osgood’s influence on him) which he poured some water on, dampening it slightly and holding it in front of her face, in case her ears were still ringing and she hadn’t heard him properly.

 

"I'm fine, thank you.”  Smiling in thanks, she accepted the handkerchief, absently noticing the neatly embroidered initials ‘MWJVLS’.  She wiped her face with the proffered damp cloth.  "At least, I think I'm fine."  In reality, she didn’t actually have very much experience being blown up, but suspected being able to breathe, see, cough and speak were all indicators that overall she was, probably fine.  No doubt those ringing bells would stop at some point.

 

"You're fine, just a little dusty I think,” said Max, having rather more experience at emerging from unexpected ‘booms’ and eying her critically, “but the medics can check you out if you're concerned."

 

"No brute force tactics Captain?"  Jess Padwinkski was surprised - based on her initial experiences of the soldiers that she’d come across in UNIT so far, they were generally all ‘do as I say’ types who were disinclined to explain or discuss what they wanted to do, preferring instead to just shout the same order increasingly louder until it was obeyed, something that, if anything, usually only made her and her colleagues stubbornly insist on doing the opposite..

 

"Not my style - like I said, or tried to the other week, I like science, have a lot of time for scientists and paid attention in science class at school," explained Max, passing her a brand new water bottle, knowing that dust made you thirsty.

 

"Originally because your Mother is a scientist,” added Jess, inadvertently letting on that, despite her rather harsh dismissal of him, she had actually been paying attention to what the very tall and broad but softly spoken Max had been saying when they’d had their ‘chat’ in the corridor some a few days earlier.  “Let me guess..." Jess studied him for a moment, considering options, "...you're more confident than having a school science teacher would make you, and she clearly made you understand science, or so you claim, so I'm going to guess University Lecturer."

 

"Yeah, biologist actually." 

 

"Where does she lecture?”  Jess hadn’t expected her guess to be correct, but then she  hadn’t actually expected his approach to be sincere, having already become used to the ‘squaddies’ (as she thought of the Troop lads she’d come across so far) coming up to her because she was female, blonde and, well, not flat chested.

 

“Ah, she doesn’t, not…” Max tossed his water bottle from hand to hand before continuing, “...since she died…” only to see Jess’s face cloud with apology, prompting him to quickly add, “...I was 14, it was a long time ago.”  Before Jess could work out what to say, Max heard the Colonel calling for Troop to regroup.  “Anyway, duty calls.”  And, with a wry grin (that, had Jess realised it, was almost exactly like Kate Stewart’s), Max came easily to attention and said formally, “Doctor,” before executing a neat about turn and jogging over to where Troop were falling back into rank, ready for their next duties.

 

“But…”  Bemused, Jess could only watch him jog away, water bottle held in one hand, slightly damp and dusty initialed handkerchief in the other, sitting on the tailgate of one of the UNIT Land Rovers.

 

She was still like that a few minutes later, when Osgood found her.

 

“Dr Padwinkski?  Everything ok?”  Clearly a quite ridiculous question, given the circumstances, but Osgood wasn’t sure what would be considered more appropriate.

 

“What? Oh!”  Jess jumped to her feet when she saw Osgood, only to regret it when the bells in her head started ringing again.

 

“Why don’t you sit down again,” encouraged Osgood, recognising the signs of someone discovering that the idiomatic ‘got your bell rung’ often came with added bells, “and get you...oh, you’ve got some water already…” she caught sight of the bottle which Jess was still holding in her left hand, and then spotted a rather familiar looking handkerchief in her right.  “Did Max…” Osgood realised her verbal misstep and quickly corrected herself, “...uh, Captain Stewart get a medic for you?”

 

“I’m fine.”  Judging by how firmly Dr Padwinkski spoke and the glare she shot in Osgood’s direction, Osgood concluded that this probably wasn’t going to be a repeat of the Sophie Merson affair as clearly, Max had caught this biologist’s attention.  “But thank you.”  Jess blinked, realising that she’d just been very rude to someone far, far more senior and experienced than her and tried to change her expression to a more neutral one, “and sorry, for…” For what she wasn’t sure.

 

“It’s fine.”  Fortunately, Osgood wasn’t one to force things, “first explosion?” she asked conversationally, giving Jess the opportunity to compose herself by double checking her scarf hadn’t slipped in all the kerfuffle.

 

“I guess…” It wasn’t something Jess had thought about, but now that Osgood had mentioned it, “...you say that like it’s usual?”

 

“Not usual, and it is best to avoid them if at all possible, but this is the…” she mentally totted up where they’d got to, “seventh this year.  Getting quite tedious actually.”  At this rate, they were going to have to come up with a new cover story - there were only so many ‘unexploded Second World War’ bombs they could claim they’d found…and accidentally blown up.

 

“I’ll try to remember…” promised Jess distractedly, finding the bell ringing was quietening down, although all it did was allow her to start wondering how Osgood had known it was Captain Stewart who had given her the water…

 

“Good.  Glad you’re alright.”  And, with a precautionary pull on her inhaler, Osgood continued on her original path, back towards the centre of the explosion.

 

“Max...she called him Max…” muttered Jess, watching Osgood go, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, although it was hard to concentrate given that everything tasted of dust.  Wiping her lips with the still damp handkerchief, she took another sip of water.  “Handkerchief.”  As she spoke the single word aloud, she looked down at the white fabric with its embroidered initials only partially visible before once more looking up at Osgood.  “She recognised the handkerchief…”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello you…”  If it was a slightly unusual greeting for her right hand scientist and general second in command, Kate Stewart didn’t care - she was just relieved that Osgood had survived without anything more than a light dusting. “...was that number six?”

 

“Hello, no, seven.  You forgot Walthamstow.”

 

“I did?”  Kate did a quick review, realising Osgood was, of course, correct.  “Can’t think why…” Kate shook her head in disbelief - it wasn’t like she was likely to forget that particular explosion in a hurry, “...but never mind.”  She smiled as she looked around the site, pleased to see no particular evidence of injury or serious damage, only to then look at her girlfriend thoughtfully.

 

“What?”  Self-consciously, Osgood rearranged her scarf, wondering if she'd be forced to send it to be dry-cleaned, or whether she could risk just shaking the dust out.

 

“Why is Padwinkski looking like she wants to explode you?”

 

“Oh, she probably thinks I’m Max’s girlfriend.”  Osgood, no longer interested in small talk, had already turned to start studying the remains of the debris, trying to spot any indications that they already knew what species of technology the alien had been using, and therefore missed Kate’s expression.

 

McGillop however, hadn’t.  

 

“I’ll….be over there.”  


	3. Five Days Later

Pleased with where they’d got to in their analysis, Osgood left the material scientists to continue with their experiments and was on her way back to her own lab, looking forward to perhaps managing to snatch an undisturbed twenty minutes during which she could have a mug of tea and try to deal with some of her unread email.  It was a silly little game she and Kate occasionally played, competing to see whose inbox was a bigger mess after a crazy week, with the answer usually but not always being Kate - although she got far more ‘email explosions’ than Osgood, Kate had the advantage of being able to delegate to Osgood, which only took about 3 seconds to do.  Osgood on the other hand, had to then work out who to get to actually solve the problem, something that usually required at least 3 minutes to work out what was, or wasn’t, going on.

 

“Osgood!” Seven paces from her lab door however, her twenty minute window was reduced to 19 minutes at best.

 

“Yes?”  She stopped and turned back towards the direction her name had been called from, the acoustics of the medieval tunnel under the Tower making it impossible to identify who was calling her.  “Oh, hello Max.”

 

“Os… sorry,” Max jogged up to her, looking sheepish, “didn’t mean to shout so loud.”

 

“You didn’t,” she waved her hand in a vague circular gesture, “acoustics of the tunnel, make everything sound far louder than it is.”

 

“Really? Cool…” Max made a mental note to come back one night when he was on night duty to experiment with various sounds whilst the scientists weren’t around, “...did you get it?”

 

“Did I get what?” asked Osgood, no longer irritated that her break between meetings was being cut into.

 

“O….sss….” Ever since she’d known him, Max had managed to take the family’s nickname for her and stretch it into two of the longest syllables she’d ever come across, including alien languages.  There was usually a strong correlation between how long he managed to make her name and how nervously frustrated he was with her.

 

“What?”  She smiled at him, enjoying this rare opportunity to make ‘Captain Stewart’ squirm - certainly the UNIT all black combat fatigues contrasted rather comically with the scrunched shoulders, canted head and lower lip caught between his teeth which characterised the 6ft plus half-Fijian’s wheedling expression..

 

“You know what…”   Unable to prolong his agony any longer, Osgood nodded and grinned.

 

“Yes, I did get the tickets…”

 

“Oh you’re the best!”  Grinning broadly, Max leant forwards and, completely oblivious to the fact that a couple of scientists were coming down the corridor, wrapped Osgood in a big hug and lifted her off the ground.

 

“Ooof!” Osgood waved her hands, unable to lift her arms which were trapped in Max’s bear hug, “put me down you!"

 

“Oh, sorry Os…”  Obediently, Max gently returned his mother’s girlfriend carefully to her own two feet, before leaning in and politely pressing a schoolboy’s kiss to her cheek, “...you’re the absolute best, you know?”

 

“Hmm…” Embarrassed, she took a moment to reposition her glasses, “...I was going to tell you tonight,” she continued, conscious now of their audience behind her.

 

“Tonight?”  Max looked at her in confusion.

 

“Dinner with your mother?” she prompted, stepping to one side of the corridor so that whoever was behind her could pass by.  “Have you forgotten it’s Thursday?”

 

“Yes…”  He nodded in greeting to McGillop and smiled what he’d thought was a friendly smile at Jess Padwinkski, only to be completely confused by her glaring at him.  “...but I’ll be there.  Actually,” he turned back to look at Osgood, “any chance I could cadge a lift?”

 

“You mean,” she rephrased, watching Jess’ reaction with interest, “could I request a car to take me home for you to then cadge a lift in since I can and you can’t?”

 

“Basically, yeah.”  Max knew better than to try to deny what was fundamentally true, but he’d been on duty for most of the time since the explosion, heading from one ‘hot zone’ to another and right now, the thought of having to cram onto the tube in rush hour… he was seriously considering skipping dinner with Kate.

 

“Go on then…” agreed Osgood finally, opening her folder and scribbling on a piece of paper which she gave to him, “...get them to email me the time you pick,” she said, drawing his attention to the fact that she’d written the vehicle request out but specified that it was to be ‘at a time of Captain Stewart’s choice’.

 

“Thanks Os…”  Max went to hug her again but checked himself.

 

“You can thank me after you’ve explained to your mother just what is so special about going to a Star Wars marathon when you already have all the films on DVD.  Now, leave me to deal with my email, or your mother’s going to be insufferable at dinner!”  And with a shooing motion that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a sheepdog trial, Osgood sent him on his way, enabling her to return to her lab in peace.

 

* * *

  


“McGillop?”

 

“Yes Jess?”

 

“Can I ask you a question?  I mean,” corrected Jess, realising her mistake, “can I ask you a question that isn’t exactly about work.”

 

“You can ask…” he agreed, putting aside the ‘thing’ they had come to look at more closely now that the chemists had confirmed it wasn’t radioactively decaying, “...but I might not answer, depends what the question is.”

 

“Fair enough.”  Now she had his attention, Jess wasn’t sure she had the confidence to ask but she seeing him watching her expectantly, she realised she hadn’t given herself much of a choice, “...Captain Stewart… is he Osgood’s boyfriend?”

 

Given what they would subsequently discover about what happened when the ‘thing’ was introduced to enzymes (that would be explosion number 9, in Covent Garden), it was a good job he wasn’t drinking anything, as he would have otherwise have sprayed his drink across the worktop and the ‘thing’.   Instead, McGillop managed to contain his reaction to some rather rapid blinking and a few gulping swallows.

 

“Ah, uh, no.  Not his boyfriend, I mean girlfriend....” Frowning, McGillop took a breath to calm himself before saying carefully, “Captain Stewart and Osgood are not seeing each other.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Very, very sure.  She’s not his girlfriend, definitely not.”

 

“But, well, they seem really friendly, and she’s not…” Jess didn’t quite know how to say what she was thinking, which was that she didn’t really know what to think of Osgood, other than she was clearly very brilliant, very senior and very….

 

“Osgood?  She’s just Osgood,” shrugged McGillop, trying to work out what on earth was going on, “and definitely not his girlfriend.  She’s ah…” McGillop realised he’d got as far as working out Jess didn't want Max and Osgood to be going out with each other, presumably because she was interested in one of them but, being the enlightened 21st century man that working at UNIT had ensured he was, he had no idea which one of them might be attracting Jess’ interest. “...very much practically married to someone else.”

 

“She is?”

 

“Yes.”  

 

“Ah.”  Jess lapsed into silence, relieved but also confused.  If she wasn’t his girlfriend, what other explanation could there be for their relationship, which was clearly different to anyone else’s at the Tower, at least as far as Jess had observed.

 

“Jess?”

 

“Yes McGillop?”

 

“The answer to your real question is yes, he’s single.”  McGillop, like most non-theoretical scientists, was prepared to hypothesise early on in their research, but wasn’t prepared to commit to a conclusion until they’d conducted some field work and gathered data, preferably having first taken repeated measurements and readings, ideally under two or three different sets of controlled conditions.  However, just occasionally, he was prepared to formulate an early theory, in advance of the final, conclusive results

 

“Ah. Thank you.”  Jess blushed, busied her hands with straightening her already tidy papers and instruments, then tucked her hair repeatedly behind her ear.

 

Final data collected, theory confirmed.


	4. One Week Later - before supper

“Mum?”

 

“Oh, hello Max…” Kate smiled distractedly at him and then returned to whatever it was she was doing on the bench.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, cautiously taking another couple of steps along the narrow pathway that ran down the centre of Kate’s greenhouse - although it was cold and dark outside on this January evening, it was bright and warm in the greenhouse.

 

“Taking pelargonium cuttings.”

 

“Ah.”  Max watched her for a moment as she expertly nipped off the cutting from the main plant, stripped away the excess leaves, dipped it in… “what’s that?”

 

“Rooting hormone, stimulates root growth.”

 

“Cool…is the soil special?”  Max watched as she pushed the cut stem into the soil, close to the edge of a small plastic pot that already had another two cuttings in it.

 

“Sterilised, to reduce disease risk, and sharp sand, to help with drainage.”  Satisfied that the cutting was securely planted, she reached for the watering can, only to change her mind.  “Make yourself useful?” she suggested, drawing his attention to another, empty watering can by his foot, before picking up another large ‘mother’ plant and considering its potential for cuttings.

 

“Sure.”  Moments later, Max had filled the watering can from the greenhouse tap and was carefully watering the half a dozen small plastic pots that each contained three cuttings, suggesting she’d been out here for at least half an hour.  “Where’s Os?”

 

“Geneva.”  Max was certain he was imagining that his mother started stripping off the leaves from her latest cutting with more force than horticulture required.

 

“Again?  That’s, what, the second time this month?”  He didn’t remember Osgood going this frequently to Geneva since Kate had transferred back to London.

 

“Fifth…” Nope, he wasn’t imagining it - his mother was definitely… tense.  “...but we both had to go for two of them.”

 

“That’s…” Max tried to pick his words carefully, “...a lot of trips in seventeen days, for both of you.”

 

“Yes, and most of them pointless.”

 

“Really?”  Max failed to keep the surprise out of his voice, but then, he couldn’t actually remember a time when she’d been rude about Geneva as, unsurprisingly, she had a better idea than most UNIT staff at the Tower about what Geneva actually did.

 

“Really…” Recognising the futility of trying to continue the careful business of taking cuttings given the mood she was in, Kate put down her knife and, bracing herself against the workbench with her hands (they were too mucky to put in her trouser pockets), she turned to look at him, “...I’m sorry.”

 

“Is everything ok?”  Max didn’t really know how to ask a more specific question - his mother’s relationship with Osgood was never really a topic of conversation, it just ‘was’, like gravity.  It went a bit weird at times, but generally only if aliens were involved, and even then it was still there, just…. different.

 

“What?”  Kate was about to ask what ‘everything’ was, only to realise what he was worrying about.  “Yes!  Sorry…”  She brushed her hands together, trying to shift some of the excess grime from them so she could handle things again.  “...I’m just…”

 

“You’re allowed to miss her Mum.”

 

“I know… and it’s not that…”  Kate hadn’t realised she’d confused Max until she looked up and saw him frown, “what I mean is, I do miss her, I’ve always missed her when I’m not in the same place she is…” which, worked out Max, who was concentrating carefully on what she said and how she said it, wasn’t the same thing as saying she wanted Osgood to be _here_. “...but right now, I want to set the ravens on Sven.”

 

“Sven?”  That was not what Max was expecting.

 

“Or Oleg or whatever he’s called.”

 

“He?  Wait, are you talking about ‘Pretty Boy Peder?’”  Kate looked at him, as if he’d just grown horns, prompting him to continue at a rush, “new scientific adviser in Geneva?  The guys were saying he’s got some sort of Jedi mind trick that’s got everyone drooling.  Peder…”

 

“Hansson, Peder Hansson.  Jedi mind trick?”

 

“Nevermind.”  Star Wars references were always lost on her.  “He’s been nicknamed ‘Pretty Boy Peder’ by the lads.”

 

“That would fit…” agreed Kate, able to be amused by the behaviour of Max’s team when she was hearing about it in her greenhouse.  Officially, not that she would ever know what nicknames Troop had for them all, she would have to be extremely unamused and invent some notional ‘punishment’ to appease Geneva.

 

“What’s he got to do with Os?” Max knew better than to even vaguely infer that Osgood had been taken in by whatever it was that helped this Peder capture people’s attention.

 

"This is the fourth time he’s run into problems this month that have meant Os has to go and help.  In person.”

 

“Ah.”  He thought about this for a moment, considering all the likely scenarios and dismissing all but two.

 

“Either it’s really bad luck she’s having to go to Geneva so much…” he began, not prepared to dismiss that option completely, although he wasn’t convinced it would cause Kate to be like this, “...or…” feeling much more confident with this option, he couldn’t stop the grin forming as he concluded, “...he’s got a crush on her!”

 

“There’s no need to find it funny…” growled Kate, her tone immediately removing the smile from Max’s face, “...you know what Os is like.”

 

“Surely someone’s told him?” Whilst their relationship wasn’t much discussed or displayed within UNIT, it was known about ‘officially’ and there were several very senior UNIT officials in Geneva who considered Kate and Osgood to be friends as well as colleagues.  “General B for one?”

 

“You might not be the only one finding it funny...” growled Kate, shoving soil into an empty pot with rather more force than was necessary.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What…” repeated Max, calmly extracting the plant pot from his mother’s hands before she broke it, “did you do that General B is punishing you for?”

 

“I might have been a _bit_ sarcastic.”

 

“Mu...um…” groaned Max, amazed at how dumb his very smart mother could be at times.

 

“What?”

 

“Mum, you’re always a _bit_ sarcastic, and that’s _without_ trying.  What’s your plan?”

 

“My plan?  What are you talking about Max?”

 

“To make it up to Os…” As he spoke, he saw what he could only describe as a ‘light bulb’ come on for her, “...wait, impressionable child here.  Don’t tell me!” he added, putting his hands over his ears and starting to sing nonsense, like his cousins did.  Only they were six.

 

“If you’ve quite finished?” asked Kate dryly, as she tidied away the few empty plant pots that were scattered across the workbench and put the lid back on the pot of rooting hormone.  It didn't matter if her cuttings didn't propagate as she didn't need them - it was just handy that, since pelargoniums didn't have a winter dormancy, she could take cuttings at any point in the year so it was always something to do.

 

“Pretty much.”  She was a good natured tease, but like everyone, had her limits, and Max had no desire to push his luck.

 

“You were looking for her.  Everything ok?”

 

“It’s nothing.”  Max shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders, completely giving himself away.  “Ok, it’s not nothing, but it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

 

“And I can’t help?”  Kate was very aware that there were many things Os was far better at than she was, and that didn’t bother her in the least.  But just because Os was better than Kate at something, didn’t automatically mean that Kate was bad at it.

 

“Umm…I’ve got a date…”

 

“Jess Padwinkski.”  Max looked at her in shock.

 

“You know?  Wait, of course you know, you’re you.”

 

“I didn’t know you had a date.  I knew, or rather Os knew she was interested in you.”

 

“Ah, yeah.”

 

“When’s the date?” asked Kate, deciding that they would probably be more comfortable somewhere that didn’t smell of mulch, like the kitchen.  “And do you want to stay for supper?”

 

“Saturday, yes please.”

 

“Lead on then…” Kate shooed him out of the greenhouse, picking up her suit jacket as she left, having headed straight for the greenhouse the moment she’d returned from the Tower, not originally intending to do anything more than check to see if she had any rooting hormone.  Of course, once she’d found that she did have an open pot, she’d carried on and started on the cuttings, not really noticing that she wasn’t wearing her gardening clothes.  “...what are you doing? For the date?”

 

“That…” said Max, holding open the greenhouse door for her to exit through, “...was what I was going to ask Os…”

 

“You were?  Why?”

 

“Because ‘someone’…” and Max emphasised who the _someone_ was by wrapping his arm around his mother’s shoulders and giving an affectionate one-armed-hug as they walked across the grass back to the house, “...claims they were swept off their feet, and I wanted to know the secret.”

 

“I can help with that.”

 

“You can?” Max winced when she looked sharply at him as she waited for him to shut the conservatory doors behind them.  “Of course you can…” He thumped his forehead lightly against the doorframe in an attempt to show how idiotic he realised he’d just been, “...sorry...I’m just…”

 

“Nervous.”  Kate wrapped her arm around his, absently wondering when exactly he’d grown so much that she could no longer put her arm around  his shoulders easily.  “You like her then?”

 

“Os?”  Kate swatted him playfully on the stomach, not buying his feeble attempt at a misdirect.  “Yeah, I like Jess… she’s… not impressed by ‘Captain Stewart’ you know?”  He looked sideways at Kate, wondering if she knew what he meant.

 

“She’s noticed you have a brain, and it’s a very good brain too.”  Kate had never questioned his desire to follow in his father’s military footsteps rather than his mother’s academic ones, but knew that it hadn’t always been easy for him, especially when he went to Sandhurst straight from school.  As they entered the kitchen she let go of his arm and asked  “Pasta ok?”

 

“Great, thanks.”  They lapsed into a familiar and comfortable silence as Kate started to pull out various ingredients from the fridge, freezer and cupboards and Max laid the table and, taking the hint from the bottle of white wine she’d taken out of the fridge and left on the side, poured his mother a generous glass of wine.

 

“Mmm… thank you.” Kate took a sip and put the glass down next to the chopping board she was using.

 

“So?” prompted Max, eager to get his mother’s advice, “what’s the secret?”

 

“Cheese sandwiches.”  Sauce prepared and in the pan (hardly difficult, most of it was bits and pieces Kate or Osgood had previously cooked and frozen, mixed together with some tinned tomatoes and fresh herbs cut from the garden a few days earlier), Kate turned the heat down under the water for the pasta before giving Max her undivided attention.  “Don’t look at me like that.”

 

“This is important Mum.  Don’t joke.”

 

“I’m not.”  Kate took a sip of her wine, looking thoughtfully at him.  “Actually, I don’t think you know this story, do you?”

 

“About how you and Os got together?  No…” Neither needed to say what both knew - that it happened before, before Max’s parents died, before he became an angry teenager battling so hard to restrain his rage that meant he’d hardly speak to anyone. “I know Gord knows…”

 

“He asked.  Where were you…” Kate turned to give the sauce a prod with a wooden spoon as she thought, “...Sandhurst.  He was just starting his second year.”

 

“Oh.  Her.”

 

“Yes.”  They both left a respectful silence for the other to say something, anything about the person who was now, fortunately, Gordy’s ex-girlfriend, much to the relief of all, including Gordy, now he’d had just over a year to recover from the experience.  Neither of them had anything.

 

“So?” Max topped up her wine glass and looked at her in anticipation. “What happened?”

 

“I was in Geneva…”

 


	5. After Supper

“You make it sound simple.”

 

“I suppose it is…”  Kate moved to pick up their now empty plates, only for Max to wave at her to stay put.

 

“You cooked, I’ll clean,” he said, picking them up and moving over to the sink, “have another glass of wine…”

 

“If you insist…” Kate poured herself another half glass of wine, and watched him start to fill the sink with hot water, “...why wasn’t it this easy when you were a teenager?”

 

“Because I was a teenager?” Satisfied that the water was hot, he put the plug in the drain and waited for the sink to fill, rolling his sleeves up past his elbows so they stayed dry.

 

“Probably...so, what are you going to do?”

 

“Umm… not sure, yet.”  He started carefully washing up, not wanting his insistence at helping backfiring on him by breaking stuff.  “But I’ve got some thinking to do.  Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.  You can still ask Os you know…” Whatever Kate was going to say next was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone “...I’ll get that…” said Kate, seeing Max was now up to his elbows in soapy water and therefore unlikely to try and beat her to the phone, which despite the advent of cordless telephones and decent batteries that meant they could keep their charge for days at a time, still lived almost permanently in the charging cradles in the hall, study or Kate and Osgood’s bedroom.

 

“If it’s Gord, don’t tell him about Jess?” asked Max in a rush, suddenly feeling nervous as he watched her head for the hall - Kate and Osgood weren’t the only people to remember the ‘Sophie Merson’ incident.

 

“Jess who?” asked Kate, winking at him as she disappeared into the hall, carrying her wine glass, and answered the phone.  “Hello?”  Max strained his ears, trying to guess from what she said next whether it was his brother, confident that if it was Gordy, she would keep his secret for him.

 

“Hello you…” He didn’t need to hear anything more to know who it was.  There was only one person in the universe who could make her sound like that, and it wasn’t his brother, but the person who had known that the secret to sweeping right into Kate Lethbridge-Stewart’s heart and still being there years later was a cheese sandwich.  Smiling to himself, Max turned on the tap and added more hot water to the sink before starting to tackle the pans and his thinking…

 

* * *

 

 

“Hi.”  Osgood could hear Kate turning on a lamp.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Hotel.  I’m coming back on the first flight in the morning.” Osgood took off her glasses and rubbed her nose, feeling suddenly rather tired.

 

“You are?”  Kate put her wine glass down on a coaster and sat down on the couch, hearing the tiredness in her lover’s voice. 

 

“Yes.”  Osgood sighed as she looked around the plush hotel suite that she’d just ‘happened’ to have been upgraded into.  “What did you do?” she asked, being less oblivious to the UNIT upper echelons’ particular form of ‘misbehaving’ than many people assumed.

 

“I might have been a  _ bit  _ sarcastic to Winifred when I saw her on Tuesday…” confessed Kate, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip, “...but in my defence, she started it.”

 

“I’m sure she did…” agreed Osgood, her boots now unlaced, she toed them off and stretched out on the bed.

 

“You are?”  Kate wasn’t in the habit of underestimating her girlfriend’s perceptiveness, but she was surprised at Osgood’s conclusion.

 

“I’m in a suite.  I didn’t know this hotel had suites.  Or our expenses policy.  And yes...” added Osgood, anticipating Kate’s next thought, “...UNIT does have an expenses policy.”

 

“I’m still apologising…”

 

“Ok.  But you don’t need to plant any more irises, the garden looks lovely just as it is.”

 

“If you insist…” Kate mentally cancelled the ‘order iris bulbs’ from her to do list and started to think about what else she could do by way of spoiling her incredibly tolerant and long suffering girlfriend.  “...so you solved it?”

 

“It?”

 

“Whatever it was that only you could help ‘Pretty Boy Peder’ with?”

 

“Yes… wait, who’s ‘Pretty Boy Peder’?”

 

* * *

 

In the kitchen, now the tap was turned off, Max could hear Kate talking. Drying his hands on a tea towel, he pulled his mobile phone out of his trouser pocket and hit three on speed dial.  After two rings he connected with the automated computer system that confirmed his voice print and identity.  Two rings after that, he was speaking to Troop’s Duty Officer.

 

“Yes Captain Stewart?”

 

“Status update on Greyhound Two please.”

 

“Yes Sir.  Currently secure in usual accommodations in Geneva.  She’s returning on the first flight tomorrow morning.  Unless you have a change of orders Sir?” There was a pause as the Duty Officer tapped a couple of keys on his keyboard, trying to work out if there was anything else happening in the world of UNIT this evening which might have brought Greyhound Two’s itinerary to Captain Stewart’s attention.

 

“No, just a status check  Carry on.”  

 

* * *

 

“...and Max stayed for dinner…” continued Kate, relaxing into the couch as she caught Osgood up on her news.   “He wanted to know what your secret was…”

 

“Which one?”  For a normally straightforward person, it was slightly galling to her that she needed to ask Kate to be more specific.

 

“Sweeping me off my feet.”

 

“Cheese sandwiches.”

 

“That’s what I said,” agreed Kate, her voice colouring with her delight at having told Max the right answer to his question.  “But he thought I was joking…”

 

“You don’t joke about the important things,”  Kate could virtually hear Osgood frowning as she spoke, “like cheese sandwiches…”

 

“I know…” Few would believe her, but it was true - she did not joke about the really important things, and her relationship with Osgood was one of the most important.  But it was hard to get others to see that, from her perspective at least, the sudden appearance of uninvited aliens wasn’t always necessarily that earth-shattering, and consequently, wasn’t automatically off-limits for her sense of humour.  “I told him the story, so don’t be surprised if at some point he asks you questions too.  I think he understands…”

 

“He’s smart…”

 

“Yes, he is.  And he’s currently doing the washing up...”

 

“Does he have a temperature?” Ever practical, Osgood’s first thought was about Max’s overall health when presented with atypical behaviour.  Her second would be alien exposure, but that was dismissed as statistically unlikely this evening - if he’d spent the evening at theirs and been caught up in an alien exposure, she’d have known about it despite being in Geneva.

 

“He’s got a date on Saturday. Have you eaten?”  Osgood wasn’t the only practically minded person on this phone call - Kate could disregard and forget her own hunger, in fact did so on an almost daily basis, but someone else’s hunger?  She was working out what she could whip up from leftovers in a second.

 

“Yes, that noodle place.  Can you believe it’s still there?”  Osgood had, on finishing sorting out her colleague’s  misunderstandings, both scientific and social, discovered that Winifred Bambera had extended what could only be described as a ‘peace offering’ in the form of a decent hotel room and first class ticket on the first flight back to London tomorrow morning.  Therefore, before taking a taxi to her hotel, she’d wandered out into the streets of Geneva and, much to her surprise, discovered that one of their haunts from Osgood’s pre-UNIT days was still open.

 

“It is?  I’m not surprised…” Kate could almost taste the coconut milk curry concoction she always ended up having despite never quite knowing what was in it or what it was called, “...is Mrs Woon still in charge?”

 

“Yes, and I was told off for forgetting about them.  So next time we’re both here…”

 

“We go to Mrs Woon’s for dinner,” agreed Kate immediately, liking the idea immensely.  “We could maybe spend the weekend?” she asked tentatively, knowing that for most of their colleagues at the Tower, the idea of voluntarily spending time in Geneva was, well, alien to them.

 

“I’d like that…” agreed Osgood, having had much the same thought as she sat in the taxi on the way to her hotel, watching the familiar sights of Geneva pass by, but then Geneva would always mean something slightly different to the two of them than to their UNIT colleagues.  “...you said he had a date?”

 

“On Saturday.”

 

“With Jess Padwinkski?”  

 

“Yes.  Seems she’s agreed to spend the day with him.”

 

“What’s he planning?” asked Osgood, rearranging her pillows so she was more comfortable, not caring it was approaching 11pm in Geneva and she had to wake up at a ridiculously early time to catch her flight tomorrow.

 

“I think that’s what he wanted to talk to you about.”

 

“I’ll talk to him now, if he wants?”

 

“You sure?” Kate was aware of the time difference, and how early Osgood would have to wake up to get the first flight back.

 

“I’m sure.”  As she waited for Kate to go and find Max, Osgood took the opportunity to put the phone on speaker and quickly potter about the room, sorting through her minimal luggage for what she needed in order to get ready for bed, not bothered by how late it was, or how early she’d have to get up.  As lovely as this hotel room was, she wouldn’t have anything like the difficulty in leaving for her flight as she had done the previous times she’d been on the first flight of the morning back to the UK, but then, unlike all those other times, she wasn’t going to be leaving Kate when she left Geneva, but instead returning to her.

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

“Well?” asked Kate, answering her mobile after the second ring, now as comfortable in bed as she was going to get with Osgood in a hotel suite in Geneva.

 

“Zoo.  His date plan is a day at the zoo.”

 

“A good idea, if he’s confident she’s pro-zoo,” agreed Kate, impressed with his idea.

 

“That’s what I said.”  Osgood sounded just a little bit proud that she’d had the same immediate thought her girlfriend had.

 

“Clever clogs,” teased Kate, putting her glasses on her bedside table.  “Did he understand?”

 

“Not at first…”

 

“Not everyone’s like Freddie.”

 

“No, but I think he’ll be ok with Padwinkski,” said Osgood carefully, knowing how hard it was for Kate to think about her late friend, and colleague when she’d been a university lecturer, Frederica Walter, Max’s mother.

 

“Not everyone’s pro-zoo…” cautioned Kate, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to stop them pricking at the memory of one of her closest friends, a friend she’d always wished Os could have met, a friend Os never met.

 

“Padwinkski is.  She was at the Conservation Research Institute at San Diego Zoo before UNIT.”

 

“How do you always know things like that?” asked Kate, losing the battle with her eyes.

 

“Because I’m me?” suggested Osgood, knowing that Kate was probably struggling and trying to gently coax her back to a lighter place in her memories.

 

“Os…”

 

“Because I remembered to google her after that explosion.”

 

“Number 6?”

 

“Number 7.  Why do you continue to forget about Walthamstow?” 

 

“I…” Kate paused, trying to work out why it was that she  _ did _ always miscount the number of explosions they’d had to cope with so far this year, and it was always because of that particular ‘excitement’.  “...Maybe because I don’t remember it so much for the explosion as the marauding telephone boxes?”

 

“That makes some sense…” agreed Osgood, smiling as she remembered the red telephone boxes advancing down the road, ‘Dalek-like’, their telephones ringing loudly despite having no obvious connection to, well, anything by that point, “...but technically there was an explosion first.”

 

“You googled her?”

 

“Asking HR for her file felt too intrusive.”

 

“You could have asked me…”

 

“That’s less intrusive?” asked Osgood, putting her glasses on the bedside table and rearranging her pillow again, knowing she was starting to lose the battle with sleep.

 

“Do you think they’d approve?” Kate’s voice was small, as small as Osgood had ever heard it.

 

“Who?”

 

“John and Freddie.”  

 

“Of Padwinkski?”

 

“Of Max… of how… of how we did?”  In all their years together, Osgood could never recall Kate ever having doubts about what Max’s parents might have thought about the sort of young man Max had grown into and was hating that she had to have them now, like this, when they were physically so far apart.

 

“From what you and Max have told me, I know they’d approve.  And I had nothing to do with it…”

 

“You had everything to do with it Os…” Kate failed to stop the yawn that had been trying to force its way through her defences for the last few minutes, “everything to do with everything…”

 

“Now who’s sweeping…” mumbled Osgood, before being caught unawares by her own yawn.

 

“Come find me for lunch tomorrow?” asked Kate, having no idea what her diary was like or what her day was like but not really caring.

 

“What are we having?”

 

“What do you want to have?”

 

“Don’t laugh…”

 

“Go on…” Kate yawned again, but wasn’t letting Os go without finding out what they were having for lunch.

 

“A Cheese sandwich, no fuss, with…”

 

“A tomato on the side…” finished Kate, smiling.

 

“Yes.  Love you…” Osgood was yawning almost continually now.

 

“I love you too, sleep well.”  And, with a final jaw cracking yawn of her own and a discipline they’d had since their very first telephone calls, they ended their call and settled down to sleep, 600 or so miles apart but very much together whether awake or in their dreams….


	6. And the Tomato was on the Side

“What is the matter with your son?” asked Osgood, in a rare show of exasperation when her phone announced the arrival of her fourth text message since she’d started eating her sandwich.

 

“I have no idea,” mumbled Kate, speaking around her own mouthful of sandwich, “I had fewer problems with him when he was teething.  Or do I mean less?”

 

“Do you consider problems to be discrete or continuous?”

 

“Fairly continuous from about 6 months for two years…” began Kate, only to realise the context Osgood was thinking of, “discrete.”

 

“Then you were right, it’s fewer.”  Osgood finished chewing her mouthful, “wait, teething? You’re talking about Gordy?”

 

“Of course!  Wait, you weren’t?”

 

“Nope, Max.  What’s Gordy doing?”

 

“Winding Max...and me up.  What’s Max doing?”

 

“Just winding me up.  But that explains why he wasn’t complaining about Gordy.”  Satisfied she’d resolved a major chunk of her mystery, Osgood took a large bite of tomato, just as her phone signalled another text, causing her to groan, at least, Kate thought it was a groan.

 

“Start at the beginning… and maybe I can get Malcolm to test those new ravens on them this afternoon,” encouraged Kate sympathetically.

 

“Both of them?”

 

“You’re expecting me to choose between my sons?  It’s either both to the ravens or neither,” teased Kate, stealing the rest of Osgood’s tomato.

 

“Oi!”  Less than impressed at Kate’s thievery, Osgood made a slow and deliberate business of reaching across Kate and helping herself to the next tomato.  Unfortunately, she slightly miscalculated the level of mischievousness her girlfriend was feeling inclined to get away with this lunchtime, and soon found herself on the receiving end of just the right level of tickle attack to be amused enough to relinquish her hold on the tomato but not have any difficulties with her breathing.

 

“Ve ‘ave veys of making yu tauk…” teased Kate, interspersing her light teasing tickles with the occasional kiss and or raspberry noise.

 

“And if I offer to talk voluntarily?” asked Osgood in between laughs, although she wasn’t sure if it was the tickling, raspberry noises or silly German accent that Kate had adopted that was making her laugh the most.

 

“Then I have no need to mention the chocolate mousse I was going to use as inducement.”

 

“Chocolate mousse?”  Osgood turned her head so she was looking back up at Kate, her torso still reasonably horizontal across Kate’s lap.  “As in you made chocolate mousse?”

 

“Before I came to work this morning…” Kate did some quick arithmetic, “...so it might be a bit runny…” she concluded, working out that it had had an hour in the fridge after she’d made it and before she left for the Tower, and it had been stored in the office fridge once she’d arrived, but that was still rather more shaking before it had finished setting than she usually planned for.  Seeing Osgood’s somewhat stupefied expression, she continued in a rush, “...I went shopping, on my way home - still forgot the mustard…”

 

“I like chocolate mousse far more than mustard.”

 

“I was going to make it last night, but then Max…” realising they’d come full circle in their conversation topic, she put her arm over Osgood’s shoulders and encouraged her to sit up properly again, although didn’t move her arm, so they ended up sat rather more closely to each other on her office couch than they had been before the ‘tomato incident’.  “What has he been texting you about?”

 

“His date tomorrow.  He’s panicking.”  Osgood chewed her lower lip for a moment, before looking at Kate in horror, “he’s not on duty is he?”

 

“Today?  No, it’s…” Kate tried to remember the name she’d seen on the morning’s duty list, “...Carter.”

 

“That’s a relief.”  Osgood had spoken before she’d realised what she’d said, although the mild pinch Kate gave her on her shoulder quickly helped her spot her error, “not that I in any way want to see Carter…” Osgood primly rearranged her scarf as she considered how unpleasant she considered that interpretation of her comment, “but I don’t want you or Max getting hurt because he’s panicking about his date tomorrow.”

 

“Nice save lover…”

 

“How is it after all these years you’re still so easily wound up about this?” asked Osgood, turning to look at Kate, the question asked with genuine interest rather than any sort of defensive tone.

 

“Because I’m a silly old woman…” Kate intently focussed on the creases in the knees of her suit trousers.

 

“Which is why I find it so fascinating.”

 

“Pardon?”  Kate was confused - Osgood was using that tone of voice Kate recognised her using when she was presenting analytical findings that she was completely confident in but unable to explain.

 

“Why is it, if it’s a ‘silly old woman’ that I’ve spent the last decade or so in love with, is she only insecure when it’s the Josh Carters or Peder Hanssons of this universe that are inappropriately interested in me?”

 

“I…” Kate stumbled to a halt before she’d really begun, realising she didn’t know how to refute her girlfriend’s logic as either a lover or a scientist.

 

“Logically, on the basis that selective substitution is a more probable theory for change, rather than a total polarisation of preferences…” continued Osgood, seemingly warming to her theme, “...what you should really be wondering is why Winifred Bambera was being so generous with the upgrades last night and this morning…”

 

There was a long pause, just long enough that Osgood wondered if maybe, finally, after all these years, she’d perhaps teased Kate just a little bit further than she should have done.

 

“Why you…” Expecting another pinch on the shoulder, Osgood was left momentarily shell-shocked when Kate kissed her, really properly kissed her, but it was only for a moment, and she quickly caught up and became a willing and enthusiastic participant in the kiss which soon saw her regretting the fact that Kate’s office couch wasn’t as long, wide, soft and generally as comfortable as their one at home, a thought that was immediately abandoned when they both heard Osgood’s phone ring.

 

It was Kate who got to Osgood’s phone first and, seeing who it was, she answered, activating the speakerphone.

 

“Maximilian.  To what do we owe this pleasure?”

 

“Mum!  I thought I rang Osgood…”

 

“You did ring me.  But we’re having lunch together…”

 

“In MY office,” added Kate pointedly, knowing Max would know how unusual this was.

 

“Oh…”

 

“Why did you ring Max?” asked Osgood, glancing at her phone display, “was it because I haven’t replied to your 6 text messages?”

 

“Yes, although that would be because you were having lunch with Mum,” said Max, sounding incredibly crestfallen, making both Kate and Osgood immediately think of Sophie whatsit and greenhouses respectively.

 

“McGillop.”  Kate looked at Osgood in surprise, gesticulating a fairly good approximation of ‘what’s he got to do with why we’re currently setting the ravens on Max?’  “I’m sorry Max, I’ll have a word with him.”

 

“It’s not his fault Os… I should stop freaking out.”

 

“Probably,” agreed Osgood amiably, “but McGillop shouldn’t be teasing you either.  He knew that I didn’t have a meeting…” Osgood watched Kate’s face transform from a frown to a look of understanding, before she leapt up and headed for her desk, “...but did know I was having lunch in Kate’s office, with Kate,” she added needlessly, watching Kate put on her reading glasses in order to skim through some texts.  “Do you want me to read your texts and call you back?” asked Osgood, watching with amusement at Kate mimed wringing someone’s neck before hitting a speed-dial number on her phone which, by process of elimination, Osgood decided had to be Gordy.  Picking up her phone, she deactivated the speakerphone so that Kate could talk to Gordy and she could continue talking to Max without interruption.

 

* * *

 

“Gordon!”  That, realised Gordy, was bad - rarely did his mother use his actual name.  If any of his fellow journalists wondered why their colleague was suddenly banging his head gently on his desk, his phone held to his ear, they were too busy watching in fascination to interrupt with a question.

 

“Hello Mum.  I hadn’t expected a call, is everything ok?”  Gordy was sitting ramrod straight in his desk chair and caught himself reaching for his neck to straighten the tie he hadn’t worn to work since his interview.

 

“Tip Top.”  Worse than bad.  Her mother was only ‘tip top’ in that horribly bright tone of voice when she was irritated.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Did you have plans yet for this evening Gordon?” asked Kate, watching as Osgood evidently worked her calming ‘magic’ on Max...and finishing the tomatoes. 

 

“No Mum, nothing planned.  Is there something you’d like me to do?”   The problem with his mother, Gordy knew from experience, was that she never reacted like she was supposed to when you misbehaved.  She didn’t shout, or take away your football, or send you to your room, or make you do random chores… she was reasonable and practical and cheerfully calm.  

 

“Whatever you like, Gordon dear…” Kate’s foot was tapping, attracting Osgood’s attention which fortunately, no longer needed to be undividedly focussed on Max who, after a couple of minutes talk with Osgood, was no longer in danger of hyperventilating or doing something silly, “...but it will be something that sees you not bother Max this evening.  Working late and watching a late showing of a film is one suggestion.”

 

“I was only trying to be helpful…” Unfortunately, even Gordy didn’t believe himself when he said that, “...and it’s not my fault he’s lost his sense of humour.  It’s not like this is the first time he’s asked a girl out!”

 

“I seem to remember having this conversation with you once before…”  Kate sat on the edge of her desk, starting to feel the effects of her near sleepless night and pre-dawn waking, even if it did mean she had chocolate mousse.

 

“Mu...um…so I might have been a bit too curious about who Max was getting in a panic about when I saw him this morning, but it’s just a girl Mum.  He’s…”

 

“He’s told her about his mother,” said Kate quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose, wondering if Her Majesty would be offended if, when offered tea at their meeting a bit later, Kate pulled out a hip flask and had a stiff drink instead.

 

“Shit.”

 

“Gordy!”

 

“Sorry Mum, I didn’t realise.  He didn’t say…”  Gordy didn’t even notice that she’d stopped calling him ‘Gordon’, not now he understood why she’d been less than impressed with his behaviour so far today.

 

“Did you give him a chance?  You  _ have _ been away for a fortnight.”

 

“Is Os mad at me too?”

 

“I don’t know…” said Kate, looking across her office at her lover, who seemed to be listening to whatever Max was telling her, a half smile on her face that transformed into a broad smile when she saw Kate looking at her, “...she’s Os…”  Gordy recognised that tone of voice and smiled in spite of himself - it was hard not to, not now he had a better understanding of how truly special and rare his mother’s relationship with Os was.

 

“I’ll stay in the office and start writing up my pieces, from the Summit.  Get something to eat on the way home.  I’ll…” he paused trying to work out what the best way might be to mend his accidentally broken fences with his brother, “...email Max and let him know I’ll not get home until midnight, so he’s got the flat to himself.  And I was never going to crash his date tomorrow Mum, you know that was only ever a joke?”

 

“I know Gordy…” Kate ran her hand through her hair, shifting the strands that were tickling her nose out of her eye line, “...it’s part of what makes you my son.”  Kate waved, catching Osgood’s attention, “how about you come round, for brunch on Sunday?” Kate saw Osgood’s smile and nod, quickly followed by her posing the same question to Max.  “Os is asking Max as well… the three of us can catch up and either cheer Max up or tease him…” she suggested, winking at Osgood when she saw the thumbs up that Max had accepted.

 

“Thanks Mum, that’d be great.  I’ll email Max now.”

 

“Good.  And Gordy?”

 

“Yes Mum?”

 

“I’m glad you’re back.”

 

“Thanks Mum, it’s nice to be back, even if I was a jerk this morning.”

 

“You’ll make amends Gordy… see you on Sunday.”

 

* * *

 

“Stop apologising Max…” said Osgood, for what felt like the seventeenth time (which it was, she couldn’t help counting things), noticing that Kate was concluding her call with Gordy, “...it’s fine.  Kate’s spoken to him.”  She listened to his eighteenth apology which, fortunately, ended with him taking a deep breath and deciding he was done panicking about his date.  “We’ll see you on Sunday for brunch.”

 

Finally, after what felt like hours but was actually little more than ten minutes after Max had rung, both Kate and Osgood were off their respective phones, and were looking at each other across her office.

 

“What happens if she doesn’t agree to a second date?” asked Osgood, starting to tidy away the remains of their lunch, surprising Kate with her unusual display of pessimism.

 

“What happens if she does?”

 


	7. Good Morning...

Blinking sleepily, Osgood was briefly disorientated when she realised that the sunlight that was filtering through the curtains was hitting her from the right, not the left; and the curtains were the wrong colour - their bedroom had blue curtains.  In fact, the last time she could remember sleeping in a bedroom with cream curtains and sunlight streaming in from the right was her bedroom in her old flat, the flat that the boys now lived in...the bedroom that was now Max’s.  The bedroom that she was currently in.

 

Rubbing her face with her left hand, which helped clear the sleep from her eyes, Osgood turned her head to the right and saw the blurry form of Kate, lying on her front, face turned towards Osgood, her right arm reaching out across the bed so that her fingertips just rested on Osgood’s hip.  Listening carefully, Osgood decided the blonde was still fast asleep, judging by her breathing which hadn’t changed in rhythm when Osgood had turned her head.  Deciding she couldn’t really be bothered to move, and seeing no reason for the world to be in sharp focus, Osgood slid her left arm back under the duvet and, with the experience of a decade to draw on, managed to entwine her fingers with Kate’s without appearing to wake her.  At least, Osgood didn’t think she’d woken Kate - without her glasses on she couldn’t know for sure but Kate was a fairly predictable awakener, especially if she saw Osgood was already awake - Kate’s slight long-sightedness presented less problems in the early morning than Osgood’s short-sightedness that meant anything smaller than a newspaper headline at 18 inches was fuzzy.

 

Carefully flexing and pointing her toes, she tried to coax some of the stiffness she was feeling in her legs to leave, not minding the feeling at all since it usually only felt like this when Kate had been particularly ‘cuddly’ at some point earlier in her sleep, something that Kate had finally been convinced of but it had taken a fair bit of persuading by Osgood.  It seemed Lethbridge-Stewarts’ were supposed to have a reputation for not being cuddlers, but then, as Osgood had been at pains to point out to Kate at regular intervals early in their relationship, Lethbridge-Stewarts weren’t exactly known for following ‘the rules’ either.

 

Running the fingers of her right hand through her hair, Osgood was slightly surprised that Kate was still asleep - now that she knew where she was, Osgood could study the sunlight and, based on its general blurry presence in the middle of the room, she guessed it was about 9.45, which wasn’t decadently late for a Sunday morning by most people’s standards, but was a little on the late side for her girlfriend, who clearly needed the rest.  Content therefore, to stay exactly where she was, Osgood let her thoughts drift to the events of the day before.

 

_ “Os?” _

 

_ “Mmm?” _

 

_ “Since when did we have a view of a Jet d’Eau from the dining room?” _

 

_ “We haven’t, not since you moved from that temporary apartment in Geneva…” Although Kate’s question had registered with her, Osgood hadn’t looked up from the report she was reviewing whilst stretched out on the couch. _

 

_ “That was a different Jet d’Eau,” said Kate, stood in the doorway, looking with amusement at her girlfriend. _

 

_ “Pardon?” Osgood finally looked up from her report, pushing her glasses up her nose in the process, only for her peripheral vision to reveal what Kate was actually talking about. “Oh!” _

 

_ “Quite.” _

 

_ “That wasn’t there an hour ago…”  Osgood put her report aside and stood up, heading towards the window, “...was it?” _

 

_ “I’d like to think we’d have noticed…” pointed out Kate dryly, following her girlfriend over to the bay window and joining her in looking down their short driveway to the road where, just to the left of their gate, on the other side of the road was a moderately impressive waterspout about six foot tall. _

 

_ “Probably… is it us?”  Osgood instinctively felt in her pocket for her phone, only to realise she’d left it on the coffee table. _

 

_ “Us as in UNIT? Or our water supply here?” asked Kate, standing next to Osgood and putting her arm around her girlfriend’s waist. _

 

_ “Both? Either?” _

 

_ “It’s impressively domestic, in both senses.  I got Captain Carter…” Kate was pleased she managed to say his name without grimacing, recalling her conversation with Osgood the day before, “...to run some checks.” _

 

_ “So nothing to do with aliens but we have no water?” _

 

_ “Pretty much.  And this…” observed Kate, watching a hi-vis wearing policeman walking up their driveway, “is presumably our courtesy call to let us know we have no water and should relocate for the duration.” _

 

Which, mused Osgood, wiggling her toes as she carefully stretched once again, was how they’d discovered that not only did they have no water, but they were very shortly going to have no access to their house from the road as fixing the fractured water main was meant the digging of a rather large hole straight across their driveway.  A quick pack up of clothes and work and they were leaving in the car, before their driveway was dug up, a rather confused policeman and water board engineer having to explain to Captain Carter what exactly their plan was and how long the ‘Kennel’ (the UNIT code name for the house, which Kate wasn’t supposed to know about but did) was going to be without water.

 

What had started as a quick stop off at Max and Gordy’s flat in order to have a coffee and make alternative plans for their brunch on Sunday had turned into a longer stop as they tried to work out where they might stay.

 

_ “Hotel then?” _

 

_ “Yes. Although...”  _

 

_ “If you want to see if we can stay with your parents…”  Kate would put up with the challenge of the guest room at her ‘in-laws’ if that was what Osgood wanted. _

 

_ “Or you could let me tell Mum we had a work crisis when she finds out we didn’t…” bargained Osgood, not particularly wanting to have to choose between either a single bed (without Kate) upstairs or the sofa bed (with Kate) downstairs in the sitting room.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t particularly good as withstanding her mother’s disappointment either. _

 

_ “If she finds out…” corrected Kate, still hopeful that she wouldn’t have to withstand an onslaught from her ‘mother-in-law’ the next time she saw her, which normally involved Kate being gently swatted with oven gloves whilst helping prepare Sunday lunch. _

 

_ “When Mum.  It’s on the local news.” _

 

_ “Thank you Gordy.”  If Kate’s teeth were gritted, Gordy recognised it was politer to let Osgood mention it. _

 

_ “Hotel it is…” decided Osgood, suddenly working out the date when she looked at her phone, “...Mum’s visiting Aunt Joan with Dad for the weekend…” _

 

_ “Aunt Joan?  Oh…” Kate fell silent, as always never quite sure what to say when Osgood’s Aunt Joan came up. _

 

_ “Don’t worry - she hated me before you condemned me to Hell,” teased Osgood, not in the least bit bothered, having had to come to terms with never being favoured by her mother’s rather eccentric older sister long before she’d finished her PhD, never mind started her relationship with Kate.  “But I still sent a card, from both of us.” _

 

_ “Of course you did.” Osgood’s caring and compassionate side meant she had still sent her Aunt a birthday card, even though said Aunt didn’t like her, but it was that same caring and compassion that meant, when she did send the card, she included Kate as she refused to deny her place in her life.  “So, hotel?” _

 

_ “Hotel.” _

 

_ There was a long silence as both of them tried to think of a hotel they could stay in.  And failed. _

 

_ “Can you…” _

 

_ “Think of a hotel to stay in? No…” Kate looked embarrassed. _

 

_ “Me neither,” admitted Osgood, pleased she wasn’t the only one struggling. _

 

_ “This is ridiculous, we’re in London for heaven’s sake!” _

 

_ “That’s the problem Mum.” _

 

_ “Pardon?” _

 

_ “It’s because we’re in London that you can’t think of anywhere - no one thinks of hotels where they live.  At least, not for staying in.  There’s a few that have half decent bars though.  And I know there’s a few with gyms that Max’s been a member of...” _

 

_ “He has a point Kate…” Osgood considered what she knew of the hotels in London, “...I could suggest  four hotels that do a decent Afternoon Tea, two with rooftop restaurants but I have no idea about what any of them are like to stay in.” _

 

_ “Stay here then.” _

 

_ “Pardon?”  It was Osgood’s turn to look at Gordy in confusion. _

 

_ “Stay here.  It’s not like you haven’t slept in this flat before.” _

 

_ “That was when I lived here,” pointed out Osgood, whose flat it technically was but, since she’d moved in with Kate some years earlier, Max and Gordy had shared it and been model tenants. _

 

_ “So?  You’re not going to get a good deal on a room, and you’re now coming here tomorrow for brunch anyway…” _

  
  


“Mmmm....”

 

“Hello.”  Osgood was distracted from her musing by Kate, who was starting to wake up.

 

“Morning…” Kate smiled sleepily at her girlfriend, “...you’re awake.”

 

“Yes…”  Osgood turned onto her side as Kate did, their fingers still entwined but now resting on the mattress between them, “...sleep well?”

 

“Surprisingly…” Kate interrupted herself with a yawn, “...you?” She absently reached forwards and moved a strand of hair away from Osgood’s nose, knowing there wasn’t anything she could do about her own hair, which was currently tickling her cheek and nose, unless she let go of her girlfriend’s hand. And she wasn’t quite in the mood for that just yet.

 

“Yes.  Strange, being here.”  There was no point looking around the room that had been hers for four years as, without her glasses, she couldn’t see the details that made the room look like Max’s and not hers.

 

“Good strange?”

 

“Good ‘I can’t believe they’re not 16’ strange…” admitted Osgood honestly, “I mean, most of the time it’s fine, but sometimes…”

 

“He’s too old for me ask where he was last night, isn’t he?” asked Kate, trying to work out what was happening with her pillow without moving her head, which meant she only really succeeded in almost elbowing her girlfriend in the face.

 

“Yes.  Hey!” Osgood managed to deflect Kate’s elbow in what felt like the split second between it coming into focus and hitting her in the face, “what’s the matter?”

 

“Pillow’s lumpy.”

 

“Then come over here,” said Osgood, shuffling backwards and pulling Kate towards her so that she had no option but to move from her pillow, or rather the lumpy corner of her pillow, onto Osgood’s.  “Better?”

 

“Much.  Hello…” Once again comfortably settled, fingers still entwined with Osgood’s, Kate realised she was now close enough to her girlfriend that neither of them could actually see each other clearly, which either meant reaching for her glasses or…

 

“What are you doing?”  The suspicion in Osgood’s voice caused Kate to pause.

 

“If I need to explain…” began Kate, “...then you really haven’t been paying attention these last however many years…”

 

“Nope!”

 

“Os?”  Confused, Kate stopped moving.

 

“Do you remember Christmas Day?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Do you remember Christmas Day?”

 

“Specifically?”

 

“New rule? About parents and children?” prompted Osgood, confident that Kate would catch up fairly quickly.

 

“Oh god…” Kate immediately rolled onto her back and groaned.

 

“You remember.”

 

“You’re evil.”

 

“Nope, Osgood.”  As she spoke, Osgood turned onto her side and explored the bedside table, trying to find her glasses.  “Where are my glasses?”

 

“I’ve got them…” Kate rolled over and grabbed both pairs of glasses from the top of the chest of drawers next to her side of the bed, passing Osgood hers and putting on her own.  “Remind me why we didn’t go to a hotel?” she asked when, a moment later, they were both sat up in bed, wearing their glasses and thus able to see each other in perfect focus.

 

“Secure wifi… and it made replanning brunch easier.”

 

“But mainly the wifi…” agreed Kate, knowing that they’d both appreciated the couple of hours of work they had each managed to catch up on which wouldn’t have been as straightforward if they’d been in a hotel.  Before either of them could say anything, both of their phones sounded, telling them that they’d received text messages.

 

“Mine’s from Gordy…” said Osgood, unlocking her phone first.

 

“Same…” Kate opened the text message, “why, the cheeky…”

 

“You got the same message then?” guessed Osgood, smiling more at Kate’s reaction than the text message itself which, if she was honest, was exactly what she’d expected to get from a Lethbridge-Stewart.

 

“Probably.”  Kate tossed her phone down on the bed between them, and perched her glasses on the top of her head.  “Are you sure I can’t stick the ravens on them?”

 

“Yes.”  Osgood put her phone next to Kate’s but kept her glasses on, appreciating being able to see Kate clearly, “but only because I don’t like the paperwork.”

 

“There’s paperwork?  For the ravens?”

 

“Well, technically it’s vellum based administrative record keeping.”

 

“No ravens then.  Shall we get this over with?” asked Kate, looking at her girlfriend, “I’m not sure I can face the sniggering otherwise.”

 

“Would they snigger?”

 

“Not if they know what’s good for them…” declared Kate using much the same tone of voice she normally reserved for dealing with aliens who had outstayed their welcome.  “COME IN BOYS,” she called, raising her voice to just the right level to be audible through the flat without actually shouting.

 

The door opened just enough for a tray with two coffee mugs and a milk jug to appear.

 

“Bribe accepted,” laughed Kate, amused at their antics and leaning back a bit so Osgood could see past her to watch.

 

The door opened a bit further, revealing that it was being carried by Max, whose eyes were covered by Gordy’s hands.

 

“Forget what I said about not wanting to do the paperwork because of the vellum.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really, it’s good to keep in practice.”

 

“What are they talking about?” asked Gordy, stage-whispering his question to Max.

 

“You don’t want to know...but move your hands.”  As Gordy dropped his hands away from Max’s eyes, Max stepped fully into his bedroom and, seeing the expressions on Kate and Osgood’s faces, immediately caved, “it was his idea.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“I’m sure it was Max,” said Osgood calmly, intervening before Kate and Gordy could start an exchange of quips that, whilst often quite entertaining, was not something Osgood felt ready for without some coffee and the opportunity to change out of her pyjamas. “Good morning.  Thank you for the loan of the room.”

 

“Morning Os, and no problem.”  Max headed to the desk that was in the corner of the room and put the tray down, “do you want milk Mum?”

 

“Black’s perfect Max, thank you,” said Kate, deciding she needed all the help she could get to get going this morning, not to mention Max’s coffee was generally more drinkable than Gordy’s attempts.  “To what do we owe this disturbance?”

 

“Can’t we come say good morning to you?” asked Gordy, trying to look innocent as Max pointedly concentrated on delivering the coffee mugs to both ladies.

 

“Your mother looks at me like that sometimes Gordy,” observed Osgood calmly, accepting her mug from Max with a smile of thanks.

 

“Does he want to know?” asked Kate, having no clue what Osgood was talking about but trusting her girlfriend completely.  Her sons on the other hand, were a slightly different matter, with Osgood occasionally overestimating how mature their reactions would be - she’d never quite recognised that no matter how old and generally mature the boys were, they would still behave like six-year-olds if they thought they could get away with it.

 

“And it doesn’t work for her either,” pointed out Osgood, ignoring Kate’s surprised interjection, “what do you want boys?” she asked, deliberately including Max in the question.

 

“What doesn’t work for me?”  Since Gordy was now doing a fairly passable goldfish impression, and Max seemed to be muttering about ‘knowing Os would see through it’, Osgood took a moment to elaborate for Kate.

 

“Your ‘innocent’ face.”

 

“But…”

 

“Moving on?” suggested Osgood pointedly, knowing what Kate was going to bring up and definitely not wanting to have  _ that  _ part of the conversation with an audience.

 

“Oh.”  Kate cleared her throat before turning her head so her focus was once again on the boys who were hovering just inside the bedroom door.  “You were saying Gordy?”

 

“I wasn’t…” Behind him, Max coughed, and the cough sounded suspiciously like ‘chicken’.  “...sure what you wanted for brunch and, since this wasn’t exactly planned, Max is going to go get the papers and buy some ingredients.”

 

“Are you offering to cook?” asked Osgood, hoping she was doing a reasonable job of concealing her true thoughts on the matter.

 

“Umm…” Gordy was worried - surely his bluff wasn’t going to be double bluffed, was it?

 

“Where are you going shopping Max?” asked Kate, trying to remember what the food shop options near the flat were on a Sunday morning.

 

“If you’re going to cook Mum, the Co-op’s now a Little Waitrose… if Gord’s on KP then there’s a Costa and it’s muffins all round.”

 

“There’s a Costa?”  Osgood couldn’t remember there being a ‘chain’ coffee shop near the flat.  “Where?”

 

“Uh,” Max tried to visualise some landmarks that would resonate with her, “you know where the post box is if you’re going to the station?”

 

“That you detour to by going down the lane?”

 

“Yeah, well if you go straight on at the post box, not left for the station, there’s a Costa in those shops just up there… I think it used to be a dry cleaners?”

 

“Ah.  Not exactly local…”

 

“Act of desperation, Gord’s not exactly a cook,” admitted Max, grinning at his brother who shrugged off the criticism with a smile of his own - his lack of cooking skill was something of a family joke.

 

“Pancakes then?” suggested Kate, knowing from Christmas that between the two of them, they’d clearly managed to put together a shopping list such that Gordy was able to go grocery shopping for the ingredients, “it’s the same ingredients as for waffles, just in a regular pan…”

 

“I’ll write you a shopping list,” volunteered Gordy, draping his arm around his brother’s shoulder and quickly steering Max out of the bedroom, making a point of shutting the bedroom door firmly behind them.

 

“That was…”

 

“Like they were fifteen again?” asked Kate, sipping her coffee which really was rather good.

 

“I wouldn’t know.”

 

“Yes you…” Kate did some quick mental arithmetic, “...wouldn’t know,” she agreed, realising that when the boys were fifteen they were not bringing coffee into Kate’s bedroom for the two of them.

 

“I was going to say,” restarted Osgood patiently, not in the least bit fazed by Kate’s interruption, “that I think that’s a first.”

 

“Them being helpful?”

 

“Them braving our bedroom when no one is ill.”

 

“Hmm…” Kate drank some more of her almost too-hot coffee as she tried to remember another occasion when they’d received such a visit, only to fail to come up with anything.

 

“I wonder how late Max came home last night…” pondered Osgood, wondering how she felt about the idea that he might have only come home this morning.

 

“He didn’t…”

 

“Didn’t he?”

 

“Did he?” asked Kate, looking at Osgood, her coffee mug forgotten about in mid air between them, a coffee mug that her girlfriend quickly intercepted and put, with her own, on the bedside table.

 

“He wasn’t home at midnight,” reminded Osgood, catching hold of Kate’s fidgeting hands once she’d dealt with their coffee mugs, “and he is going to be 27 this year.”

 

“But…it was a first date.”

 

“Technically, I wasn’t home at midnight on our first date…”

 

“But…”

 

“And I don’t mean because we were in Geneva,” clarified Osgood, looking meaningfully at Kate.

 

“Is this where you point out I’m in danger of throwing stones inside my glass house?” asked Kate, looking down at their joined hands which rested on the duvet between them.

 

“Nope.”  Osgood let go of Kate’s hands and instead reached out and gently turned her girlfriend’s head, so she was once again looking at her properly, “this is where I remind you we should have been at home this morning and not known anything about how his date went until you’d made pancakes…”

 

“I was making pancakes was I?” Seeing the sense in her girlfriend’s words, Kate tried to go with her girlfriend’s change of conversation topic.

 

“Or waffles…”  Unnoticed by Kate, Osgood had also been gently coaxing her to lean forwards so that, by the time Osgood had finished her alternative breakfast suggestion, their heads were much closer together.  “But basically not thinking about them at all…” she concluded, brushing her lips against Kate’s.

 

“I thought we weren’t doing that…” whispered Kate, their foreheads touching.

 

“We’re sitting up and have had some coffee…”

 

“That makes a difference?” asked Kate even as she was moving to steal another featherlight kiss.

 

“All the difference…”


	8. ...how would you like your surprise?

“Mum?”

 

“Yes Gordy?” Kate looked up from the tablet screen and smiled at him, happy to be distracted from the report she was reading.

 

“Are you busy?”

 

“Not really.”  She turned the screen off and put the tablet on the coffee table but otherwise remained quiet, waiting for Gordy to lead the conversation - she knew better than to ask him directly what he wanted, as that would only see him start to talk about trivialities at best, or clam up completely at worst.

 

“Can you come look at the pots?” He jerked his head towards the small terrace that was actually the flat roof of the basement flat’s bathroom, accessed via the large sash window in the sitting room.

 

“Sure…” Kate stood up and, shoving her hands in her pockets, followed him to the window.  “Everything ok?”

 

“Uh…”  Gordy’s reluctance to answer her question was concealed by his struggles with the sash window which, much to his embarrassment, was refusing to budge.

 

“May I?” asked Kate finally, when she deemed a suitable interval had passed and he was prepared to admit defeat.

 

“Umm…” Gordy very nearly said something that would have incurred the wrath of his mother, “...sure.”  He stepped back, allowing her some space before realising, “this is where you show me there’s a trick to it, isn’t it?”

 

“Maybe…” Kate stepped up to the window and, reaching out with her left hand, just lifted the left hand side of the sash frame a tiny fraction, then let go again, before repeating the move with the other corner.  Then, with a wink to Gordy, she put both hands on the top of the frame and with no apparent physical exertion, threw up the sash so that the window was fully open, which would enable them to easily step out onto the little square of space.  “It helps if you have the window sitting square in the frame before you try to lift it,” observed Kate mildly, before stepping outside, ducking her head instinctively so she didn’t collide with the window.  In the same move, she also reached out and picked up a brick that was lying on the floor, just outside the window, and placed it on the inside of the window frame.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Gordy, still standing inside, slack jawed with surprise.

 

“In case the sash drops down whilst we’re out here,” she pointed to the brick, “that stops it jamming in the frame and trapping us out here.  Didn’t you know to do that?” 

 

“No…” Gordy stepped over the window sill and joined her on the terrace, “never noticed the brick before.”  He squinted slightly in the morning sunlight as he looked at her, “how did you know about that?”

 

“You said it yourself yesterday,” pointed out Kate, stepping nimbly back into the sitting room, grabbing her coffee mug and returning to a bemused looking Gordy, “it’s not like I haven’t slept in this flat before.”

 

He blinked.

 

Gulped.

 

Blinked again.

 

Blushed bright red.

 

“I was talking about Os!”

 

* * *

  
  


Turning off the water, Osgood stood surrounded by the warm, steamy cloud she’d created with her shower and concentrated carefully on her breathing whilst enjoying the warmth.  Intellectually, she could understand the scientific reasoning that indicated she was increasing the probability of an asthma attack by inhaling the warm steamy air, but she was more than a pair of wheezy lungs, and the rest of her liked hot showers, a lot.  Therefore, whilst she’d been prepared since her early teens to adapt many aspects of her life in an attempt to keep her asthma as well managed as it was possible to, there were three areas she’d held firm on - and hot showers had been the first.

 

A few seconds later, as the warmth began to fade, Osgood stepped out of the shower.  Not bothering to find her glasses yet, she reached out as she had done hundreds of times before when she’d lived in the flat and pulled a large bath sheet off the towel rail, which she proceeded to wrap around herself, tucking the corner securely in between her breasts.  No longer feeling like she was in danger of shivering, she grabbed the next, smaller towel off the rail and parked it on the edge of the basin.  Armed with her hairbrush, which she’d left immediately next to the other side of the basin, she set about brushing her wet hair into some sort of knot-free order ahead of wrapping it up in the second towel.

 

By the time she’d untangled her hair enough to wrap up in the towel, the steam had cleared sufficiently for her to be able to see herself in the mirror, at least, she would be able to see herself once she’d found and polished her glasses.  Again, falling back on the routine formed in the years she lived her, she found her glasses easily as she’d automatically put between the basin taps immediately before she stepped into the shower.  Using the corner of the towel wrapped round her body, she gave the lenses a quick polish.  Vision therefore fully restored, she gave herself a quick inspection in the mirror, made sure her towels were securely in position and opened the bathroom door.

 

Turning out the bathroom light, she set off down the short hallway, heading back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed when she heard the doorbell ring.

 

“I’ll answer it,” she called, knowing she was closer to the front door than either Kate or Gordy would be since she didn’t see them in the hallway.  Opening the door, not bothering to look through the spyhole as she expected it to be Max discovering he’d forgotten his keys, she jumped in surprise: although not so much that she dislodged her towels, she did instinctively grab the towel at her chest, just to make sure.

 

It wasn’t Max.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“It’s my flat.”  As much as Osgood wanted to ask Jess Padwinkski what  _ she _ was doing here, she found herself needing to focus instead on not succumbing to an asthma attack, as she mentally catalogued the circumstances even as she was trying to not succumb to the wheezing: surprise, check; shock, check; sudden change in air temperature, check; various other allergens, almost certainly, can’t be bothered to work them out, assumed present.  

 

Not bothering to waste any of her rapidly diminishing breath by speaking, she merely opened the door a bit wider and stepped to the side, partly to shield her body from the (admittedly deserted, after all, it was still Sunday morning) sleepy street and partly in the universal ‘come in’ gesture.

 

Confused and cross, having thought she was coming to Max’s flat, Jess stepped inside, taking confidence in the fact that she had an invitation (and directions) from Max to drop by this morning.  However, just as her wounded pride had stoked a bubbling fury to the point where she was about to start telling Osgood that she better have a flipping good reason for answering the door of the man she’d spent the morning thinking was her new boyfriend wearing nothing but a couple of towels, she realised three things.

 

She could hear Osgood wheezing, which couldn’t be good.

 

She could see Max coming down the hallway naked from the waist up, clutching a shirt, which was better than her dream.

 

She thought she’d just heard someone who sounded a lot like Kate Stewart, which wasn’t part of her dream.

 

“Jess!”  Max’s enthusiasm at seeing her was short lived when he realised what was happening.  “Deep breaths Os…” Ignoring Jess’s frown, Max tossed his clean shirt on the floor, reached out and held Osgood gently by her biceps, “look at me Os…” he encouraged, trying to help her stand up straight, “that’s it…” he smiled reassuringly at her before looking past her and shouting, ‘“INHALER!”

 

Still cross, but unable to sustain her fury when faced with someone in real physical distress, Jess shut the forgotten front door and stood nervously on the doormat, feeling like she was intruding but not sure why, at least, not if she trusted that Max was as much of a gentleman as yesterday had led her to believe he was.  However, before she could start to come up with alternative explanations that she might just be able to persuade herself to believe, another guy came rushing up to them, only to slide to a stop when he saw her, a strange smile on his face.

 

“Hello…”

 

“GORD!” Max shouted at his brother, amazed at how slowly he seemed to be moving.

 

“Inhaler’s coming Os,” Gordy said kindly, rubbing his hands together quickly to make sure they weren’t too cool, “you want me to rub?”  Osgood managed what was just enough of a nod to let him know she wasn’t going to be startled by him putting his hands on her shoulders, which he promptly did, immediately starting to dig his fingers and thumbs into the rapidly tightening muscles across her shoulders and neck, knowing from his own struggles with asthma that it helped a bit.  

 

“Keep breathing Os…” encouraged Max, focussing on his own breathing like she’d taught him all those years ago after he’d stood feeling helpless as he watched Kate help her through the first asthma attack he’d seen her have.

 

“You must be Jess,” said Gordy conversationally, no less concerned for Osgood than Max was, but unlike Max, able to see the confused mixture of emotions the scientist was battling with.  “I’m Gordy, and this…” he caught his lip between his teeth in a completely unsuccessful attempt to conceal his amusement at the accidental tableau they were creating, “...is not what you think it looks like.”

 

“You have no idea what I think it looks like,” said Jess, surprising herself with how steely she sounded.

 

“True,” agreed Gordy, hearing his mother’s faint call of ‘got it’, her steps soundless on the carpet, “but I do know you won’t have imagined the truth.”

 

“CATCH!” Jess looked back down the hallway when they all heard a shout that definitely sounded like Kate Stewart, a split second before she saw a woman, who looked a lot like she supposed Kate Stewart could look like, if she were to ever wear jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that is, emerge from the same room she thought Max had come from and throw something in their direction.

 

“Here you go..” said Max, letting go of Osgood and catching the inhaler his mother had thrown at him, pulling off the cap as he was shaking it.  So focussed was Jess on watching Osgood take the inhaler from him as she came to the end of her next long breath out (without letting go of her death grip on her towel), that she failed to notice that the other woman had followed the inhaler down the hallway; she therefore also didn’t noticed Gordy step away from Osgood, abandoning his neck rub as he made way for her.  She did however notice that, by the time Osgood had delivered the dose of Ventolin into her lungs and handed the inhaler back to Max to recap, her wheezing wasn’t so loud and there was a palpable reduction in the tension in Osgood’s face, presumably thought Jess, due to the drugs.

 

“Better?” asked Kate softly, absently aware that there was a rather shell-shocked looking exo-biologist stood on the doormat, but totally focussed on her girlfriend as she slipped her arms loosely around Osgood’s waist and encouraged her to lean back against her whilst she continued to get her breathing back under control.

 

“Again…” wheezed Osgood, reaching out with one hand towards Max, who immediately uncapped the inhaler and gave it another shake.

 

This time, as Jess’s gaze tracked the inhaler as Osgood took it from Max and prepared to inhale the medication, she was distracted by the top of a blonde head which, she assumed, was the woman who’d thrown the inhaler, now standing behind Osgood.  Blinking, Jess realised that it was definitely the woman who’d thrown the inhaler, who had both arms around Osgood’s waist, presumably loosely enough so as not to create issues with breathing.

 

“Deep breaths…” encouraged Kate automatically, listening to the rhythm of her lover’s breathing as she held her, her chin resting lightly on Osgood’s bare shoulder, her head angled to the side so she didn’t dislodge the towel that was keeping her wet hair away from Osgood’s face and neck.  Kate was therefore completely unaware that, because of how her own hair was tumbling out of its loose twist, from where Jess stood, her face was effectively veiled behind a blonde curtain.  “In...Out…”

 

“I’m ok…” Osgood’s voice was quiet and still sounded a bit breathless, but she could feel her breathing improving with every breath.  “Really…” she said, feeling a bit self conscious with everyone stood looking at her, “...thank you Max, Gordy…” Not knowing what to say to Jess, Osgood ignored her, more concerned with trying to convince her girlfriend that she was sufficiently recovered to relocate somewhere less hall-like, and preferably where she had some clothes.  Handing the inhaler back to Max when he held out his hand for it, she added,   “...I’m fine…” No longer needing to keep her right hand free for the inhaler, Osgood took the opportunity to give her left hand a rest from maintaining the secure grasp of the towel that was maintaining her modesty and swapped arms.  

 

Kate, recognising Osgood giving Max her inhaler as an indication she felt her breathing was now under some sort of control, acknowledged her own relief at this achievement with a tender kiss to the side of Osgood’s neck before moving to stand next to her, not removing her hand from where it rested on her girlfriend’s hip.  As Osgood turned to head towards her old bedroom, Kate turned with her.

 

“Thanks.  We’ll be back in a bit,” said Kate, accepting the inhaler that Max held out for her to take on Osgood’s behalf.  “Can you put on some coffee and a shirt please?  Not necessarily in that order.”

 

“Sure.  You want anything Os?” asked Max, accepting his forgotten shirt from Gordy who’d picked it up and given it a shake so that it didn’t look like it had just been thrown on the floor.

 

“No, thank you,” she said carefully, mentally adding ‘just Kate’ but knowing that she didn’t need to waste any breath saying that out loud.

 

Moments later, the bedroom door closed behind Kate and Osgood, leaving Max, Gordy and Jess still stood just inside the front door.

 

“That…”

 

Gordy and Max looked at Jess in surprise when she started to speak, almost as if they’d forgotten that she’d been there this whole time.

 

“That…” she swallowed thickly, trying to get her voice going again “...was Kate Stewart…” she gestured in the general direction of the door the two women had disappeared behind, “...with Osgood…” she waved her hand vaguely across her chest, “...not…”

 

“Told you it wasn’t what you’d thought it was,” confirmed Gordy, starting to grin.

 

“I should go…” began Jess, vaguely waving to the door behind her.

 

“And miss out on pancakes?  Don’t be stupid!” And, draping a long arm over Jess’s shoulders, Gordy steered the still somewhat dazed scientist towards the kitchen.

 

He was rather looking forward to brunch…


	9. Regrouping

“Hoodie?” asked Osgood the moment the bedroom door was closed, pulling on the top that her lover was wearing, knowing Kate would understand what she was talking about and why she was speaking with such brevity.

 

“Gordy’s, and because he made me.”  Kate pulled the offending garment over her head and tossed it onto the bed before looking at Osgood with a wry smile, “better?” she asked, gesturing to her ‘planned’ outfit.

 

“Much,” agreed Osgood, nodding in satisfaction at seeing her girlfriend more familiarly attired in her ‘own’ clothes that included a shirt that was technically Osgood’s.

 

“That’s the question you wanted to ask first?”

 

“Yes,” said Osgood simply, continuing over to the bed and sitting down.  “Hairbrush?” 

 

“Of course.”  Kate headed over to where her overnight bag was sitting on the floor and bent down, starting to rummage for her hairbrush.  “Don’t get cold,” prompted Kate, not remotely fazed by the one word responses, knowing that it would be a little while before Osgood was feeling sufficiently confident in her breathing again to be comfortable combining speaking in longer phrases whilst moving about.

 

“Mm..Not…” Osgood’s reply was quieter and more muffled than Kate was expecting, prompting her to pause in her hairbrush hunt and look back at Osgood, ready to return to her side with the inhaler if it was needed.  Instead, she saw her girlfriend was using the towel that had been wrapped around her hair to finish drying her arms and shoulders, tendrils of wet hair hanging down in front of Osgood’s face.

 

Finding the hairbrush, Kate looked around and saw her girlfriend’s neat pile of clothes already assembled on the desk in the corner of the room.  Standing up, Kate detoured to the desk and, shoving the hairbrush handle in the back pocket of her jeans, picked up the clothes and returned to the bed, placing the clothes on her girlfriend’s left hand side, knowing that was where she would have already put her glasses.

 

“Hairbrush?”

 

“Thanks.” Osgood held out her right hand and Kate put the hairbrush into it, before taking the no longer needed towel from her girlfriend’s left hand.  After taking a couple of steadying breaths, having no desire to accidentally trigger another round of wheezing, Osgood was about to start brushing her hair out of her face when she paused, “Talk!”

 

“I…” Kate’s intended protestations died on her lips when Osgood raised the hairbrush in her general direction, as if preparing to use it as a weapon.  “I suppose you can hear me thinking…” she mumbled, as, towel put aside on the desk, she started to pace up and down the side of the bed, her hands once more deep in her pockets.

 

“Stop moving,” instructed Osgood as she carefully worked at a knot with the brush, also knowing that some of Kate’s pacing was caused by a lingering nervousness about her breathing.

 

“Sorry.”  Kate stopped mid stride and turned on the spot so she was standing facing the bed and Osgood.  “I…” Kate took a deep, steadying breath, trying to force her heart to stop pounding, drawing comfort from watching Osgood’s careful and methodical untangling of her hair.  “I was outside, on the terrace looking at the plant pots.  Those terracotta pots that we put the camellias in haven’t survived the frosts...they’re also a bit pot bound, not surprising really, considering…” Kate smiled as she remembered that weekend not long after Osgood had moved into this flat, when she’d come to visit and they’d created the ‘garden’, “...so Gordy’s going to get some bigger pots and repot them.”

 

“Does he know how?” asked Osgood carefully as, tangles removed, she efficiently brushed her damp hair back from her face so it was once more out of the way.

 

“He does now.”  Kate looked down at the front of her shirt, brushing the odd speck of soil from it, "I showed him what to do.  He seemed quite enthusiastic once he realised it was a mucky job,” she continued, looking up at Osgood again who was now wearing her glasses and thus able to see Kate clearly.  “And that explains the top - he made me put it on over my shirt so I didn’t get muddy.”  Not, thought Kate, that it had been necessary - it was only repotting a camellia for heaven’s sake, not turning a compost heap.  “I might have…” Kate wondered what the best way to explain Gordy’s reaction to her knowing about the brick was, “...underestimated his innocence.”

 

“Oh?” Osgood sorted through the pile of clothes, finding her underwear and looking at her bra resignedly - why couldn’t she have packed a front fastening one?.

 

“I taught him the trick with the window, and about the brick.  Can I help?”

 

“Thanks.”  Osgood held her bra out for Kate to take, relieved she wasn’t going to have to test her improving but still not back to normal breathing with that particular challenge.  “Gordy’s innocent?”

 

“No need to sound so surprised,” teased Kate, taking the bra from her girlfriend with one hand and held out her other for Os to take as she stood up, making it less physically demanding.  “But it turns out…” Kate interrupted herself in order to take advantage of Osgood standing directly in front of her and place a gentle kiss on her lips, resisting the ever present desire to develop the kiss because she knew that Osgood’s lungs were not yet up to a longer kiss.  “Turns out,” repeated Kate, waiting for Os to turn around so her back was to Kate, “that he’d not realised I’d slept here before.”

 

“But…” Osgood removed the towel that had been wrapped around her body and, after using a corner to dry off a couple of areas that still managed to be damp from her shower, dropped it onto the bed. Taking back the bra that Kate held out, Osgood held the cups against her chest as Kate caught hold of the ends and fastened the clasp in the centre of her girlfriend’s back.  “Thanks.”  Saved the contortion of fastening her bra (which really didn’t help recovering lungs), Osgood quickly tackled dressing her top half as she considered what Kate had just said.  “Didn’t he say…”

 

“He was talking to you only.”  As soon as she’d completed her allotted task, Kate had taken a couple of steps backwards and, hands back in trouser pockets, was now leaning against the wardrobe.  “Apparently I never visited, at least, not as far as he was concerned.”

 

“Oh.”  Osgood, now wearing her shirt and sweater and underwear, turned around so she could sit on the bed again.  “Why are you over there?”

 

“I can see the Lego models.”  Kate nodded in the direction of the bookcase on the far side of the bedroom, behind Osgood, on which Max had put many of the smaller Lego models he’d made.  “What are the ones that look like Cybermen?”

 

“Stormtroopers.  Useful cover story now they’re making more films.”  Osgood had stopped trying to understand why Kate could never remember anything about Star Wars years ago - it was one of those things, along with chutney, Twitter and garden gnomes, that Kate just didn’t  _ get _ .  “Why?”  As she asked the question, Osgood started putting on her socks.

 

“Because it reminds me this is Max’s room.”

 

“I don’t…” Osgood looked up from getting her second sock on comfortably, intending to ask Kate to explain, only to see her girlfriend smirking, her head canted slightly to the side like she did sometimes when… “Oh!”  Osgood blushed.  “But…”

 

“But nothing.” Kate’s smile changed from a confident smirk to a shy smile, “I’ve missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you too.”  Once upon a time, she would have started to correct Kate by pointing out that since she’d returned from Geneva on Friday morning, they’d had lunch together before spending the last two nights asleep in the same bed, not to mention all the other errands and tasks they’d completed together over the weekend.  But that wasn’t the same as tackling the crossword together on the couch, or making love, or any of the multitude of small moments that saw them just being Kate and Os, without anyone or anything else intruding.

 

“I’m sorry…” Kate caught her lower lip between her teeth.

 

“What for?” Osgood stood up and headed over to her lover, relieved that her breathing remained good.

 

“Geneva?”

 

“All Geneva?” Osgood put her hands on Kate’s hips, “because I enjoyed my visits to see you…”

 

“No!”  Kate gently held Osgood’s waist.  “Geneva this week… I’m sorry you’ve had to go so much...I shouldn’t have teased Winifred...”

 

“Stop apologising…”  Osgood emphasised her point with a tentative kiss, a kiss that Kate didn’t exactly respond to, “...and stop worrying…” Osgood kissed Kate again quickly when she saw her start to try to talk, “...shush…” she instructed, kissing Kate again, her confidence increasing with every kiss and every breath, “...I’m fine…” This time, much to her relief, she felt Kate at least react to her kiss, even if, much to Osgood’s increasing frustration, she still hadn’t got the hint, “...it was just the cold air…” another kiss, this one lingering a moment longer than the last one, “...and the surprise…” Kissing Kate again, Osgood moved her hands from Kate’s hips to her hair, catching up the loose strands that had tumbled out of the twist Kate had tidied her hair into when she’d gone gardening, “...after my shower…” 

 

Whatever Osgood had thought she might do next to try and convince Kate that she, that they, were fine was never tested experimentally as, this time, when Osgood’s lips lightly met Kate’s, Kate kissed Osgood back...repeatedly, much to Osgood’s delight and encouragement, with more kisses of her own.

 

“See?” said Osgood a few minutes later, her previously neatly brushed hair no longer neatly brushed, her fingers playing with the soft strands of hair at the nape of Kate’s neck.

 

“Not really…” joked Kate, blinking rapidly as if that would magically correct her long-sightedness so that Osgood would be in focus for her..

 

“Goof. I was talking about my breathing.”

 

“Sorry…” By way of ‘apology’, Kate kissed her again, slowly, lazily, lovingly.

 

“Mmm…You need to cook brunch…”

 

“In a minute…” Uninterested in the idea of food preparation, Kate slipped her hand under Osgood’s top and started tracing random patterns across the warm skin of her lower back as she started tracing the line of Osgood’s jaw with her lips and tongue.  “...not hungry…”

 

“I…don’t…believe...you...” Osgood was back to speaking in short, breathless sounding bursts but for very different, far more pleasant reasons.

 

A sudden loud noise caused Kate to stop her kisses and groan, just as Osgood started laughing.

 

“I was right.”

 

“Os…”

 

“Nope, your innocent face isn’t going to work.”  It really was remarkable, thought Osgood, how similar both Kate and Gordy’s attempted innocent faces were.

 

“But…”

 

“You might be able to ignore your stomach, but I can’t.  Not when it’s that loud…” In a token gesture of appeasement, she kissed the tip of Kate’s nose.  “Come on, before Gordy decides to cook?”

 

“In a minute…” insisted Kate, letting Osgood step away from her but not responding to the tug on her arm to get her to stop leaning against the wardrobe.

 

“Ka...ate…” groaned Osgood, poking the blonde in the stomach when it started grumbling again.

 

“Ooo..sss…” mimicked Kate, grinning, clearly amused by something, which made Osgood suspicious.

 

“What?”

 

“You might want to put your trousers on first?”


	10. Unravelling

“No, really, I should go,” insisted Jess, although she did allow Gordy to steer her through the flat to a large, bright and sunny room with a view of a small roof terrace.

 

“Have a seat…” encouraged Gordy, dropping down into one of the armchairs, “...Max will be back in a minute.”

 

“Thanks, but…”  Not sure whether she was nervous, angry, curious or amused, Jess hovered by the end of one of the two couches.

 

“You think you should go, so you keep saying.”  Gordy leaned forwards and, reaching behind him, extracted the television remote control which he’d sat on. “But I would stay for a coffee.”  He put the remote on the small table that was next to the chair.  “Max is going to make it, so it will be drinkable.”  Gordy was under no illusion - he was reasonably successful at a lot of things, but nothing good ever came of him in a kitchen, although he did regularly try, just never when they had company, planned or impromptu.

 

“It’s fine, really…”  Jess absently traced the seam that ran around the edge of the couch cushion, clearly not keen to stay but not actually leaving.

 

“Let me put it another way,” suggested Gordy, stretching his legs out in front of him, revealing that he had a hole in his sock, “as awkward as you think it’s about to be, it’s going to be way more awkward if you seem them for the first time at work tomorrow.”

 

“See who?” asked Jess, trying to work out why his smile was sort of reminding her of someone.

 

“Whoever you’re currently dreading seeing the most of…” Gordy saw Jess blush and realised what he’d said, “I mean, whoever seems to be the most terrifying.”

 

“Has Max ever told you you look like her?”  Deciding she had nothing to lose, Jess asked the question she realised was now bugging her.

 

“Who?”

 

“Kate Stewart.”

 

“Ah, no…”  Gordy bit his lip to stop himself laughing, “Max has never mentioned it.”

 

“Never mentioned what?” asked Max, appearing in the doorway, wearing a different clean shirt.  “Hello Jess.”

 

“That I look like Kate Stewart?” Gordy was nearly biting through his lip in an attempt to not laugh.

 

“Oh.  Well you do, obviously.”  Not understanding what was going on, Max smiled at Jess and added, “don’t mind him.  Coffee?”

 

“I should go.  Obviously?”  Jess looked between Max and Gordy, feeling like she was missing something, but having no idea what.

 

“Yes please.  And clearly Max didn’t tell you,” said Gordy, recognising that he’d probably taken the joke as far as he dared without getting on the wrong side of someone.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Nevermind.  We weren’t exactly introduced earlier, what with…” Gordy waved a long arm loosely in the general direction of the hallway as he stood up again.  “I’m Gordon, well, Gordy, unless I’m in trouble with Mum.”  He came up to Jess and held out his hand for her to shake, which she did automatically.  “Pleasure to meet you Jess, er..Padwindski is it?  Have I got that right?”  

 

“Padwinkski.  Jess Padwinkski,” she corrected, smiling in spite of everything.

 

“Delighted.  Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, but Gordy’s fine.”

 

“Leth...Lethbridge-Stewart?” Jess was still loosely holding onto his hand, looking slightly shocked.

 

“Yup.  At least, that’s what it says in my passport.  Why don’t you sit down?” he encouraged, prompting Max to move with surprising speed to her side and guide her to the couch, giving his brother a swift elbow in the ribs in the process.

 

“As in the Brigadier?” Jess asked finally, looking at Max for confirmation.

 

“His grandfather,” confirmed Max, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so he was facing her,  “You paid attention in your induction then…” he joked feebly, not quite sure what her reaction was going to be.

 

“Kate Stewart’s your mother?”

 

“Ah, yes.”  Gordy scratched the back of his neck, wondering why Jess was looking at him when she asked that question, not Max.  “Which is probably why he’s never mentioned that I look like her.”

 

“Sorry…” Jess smiled in apology at Gordy, who shrugged it off, more interested in what she was going to say next.  “How do you two know each other?”

 

“Oh boy…” muttered Max, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him.

 

“Ah, well, that’s a bit complicated…” hedged Gordy, suddenly reluctant to tell her about Max’s relationship to the Lethbridge-Stewarts as he knew it was his to tell.

 

“Why don’t I make some coffee?  Before Kate and Os…”

 

“I need to go,” said Jess suddenly, her manner completely changing in an instant.

 

“But…”  Confused, Max stood up when she did.

 

“Here’s your wallet,” said Jess sharply, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling it out, “don’t bother showing me out,” she added, pushing the wallet firmly against his stomach, “I remember the hallway,” and heading for the door.

 

“But…” Slack-jawed, Max was stuck, rooted to the spot, clutching his wallet to his stomach.

 

“Does the name Frederica Walters mean anything to you?” asked Gordy quietly, stopping Jess in her tracks.

 

“Of course!”  Jess turned around in the doorway and looked at him in surprise - she didn’t know what Gordy did, but even within the scientific community, few knew the name, not now.

 

“Biologist, very involved in ecology stuff…” Gordy shrugged when he saw Jess wince, “...sorry, not a scientist.

 

“What of her?”

 

“She was my mother’s best friend… they were lecturers together.”

 

“I don’t understand…” Except, realised Jess, maybe she was beginning to...was she?

 

“She was my mother…” said Max, still clutching his wallet, “...I’ll go make the coffee.”

 

“Max…”

 

“Give him a minute?” suggested Gordy, once more putting his arm around her shoulders and guiding her to sit down on the .  “He’s not mad, just…” Gordy thought for a moment, half hoping that his Mum and Os would suddenly appear and take over.  They didn’t. “He’s just, well, Max.  I mean… oh, wait…” Seeing that Jess was looking upset, he shoved his hand into his pocket and extracted a handkerchief, “...it’s clean, promise,” he said, offering it to her.

 

“Thanks…” Jess took the handkerchief, “...didn’t know Max was so generous.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The handkerchief…”

 

“Isn’t Max’s, it’s mine.”  Gordy waited for her to finish using it, “those are my initials.”

 

“GJLS?” read Jess, finding the embroidered initials in the same stitching she’d seen on Max’s handkerchief that she still had from when he had given it to her after that explosion.

 

“Gordon James Lethbridge-Stewart.  But Max has a similar set.  Os gave us a set each for Christmas… what?”

 

“You keep saying Os…”

 

“Osgood.  Had an asthma attack in the hallway just now?” prompted Gordy.

 

“This is her flat?  She lives here?” asked Jess, remembering the one thing Osgood had said to her before her asthma attack started.

 

“Not anymore.  Not permanently.”  Gordy saw Jess frowning, “sorry, I’m not making much senses.  Os, Osgood owns this flat and she used to live here.  Max and I live here now, she’s...I guess you could say she’s our landlord.”

 

“Who opens your front door in a towel?” asked Jess, unable to hide her skepticism.

 

“Who stayed here last night because their place had no water.”

 

“Their place…”  Jess’ eyes went wide and she blinked.  “...oh god…”

 

“If you like, but most people call me Gordy,” joked Gordy, seeing Max coming into the room with a tray containing coffee mugs, cafetiere, sugar bowl and milk.

 

“What did I miss?” asked Max, composed again, “and thanks for returning my wallet Jess.  Sorry… I forgot to mention to anyone you were dropping by with it this morning.”

 

“Umm…” Jess was apparently fascinated with Gordy’s handkerchief.

 

“You being an idiot,” said Gordy succinctly, not seeing that Kate and Osgood were just arriving, although Osgood immediately headed for the kitchen.

 

“GORDON!”

 

“Sorry Mum.”

 

“Actually….” The tray on the coffee table, Max stood up straight and put his hands in his pockets, “he might have a point.”

 

“He does?”  Kate looked at Max in surprise, not expecting that.  “About what?  Good morning Jess.”

 

“Umm…”  Neither Gordy, Max or Jess appeared keen to be the first one to speak.

 

“I think I can guess,” said Osgood, reappearing from the kitchen with a banana and sitting down on the other couch and pulling on the tail of Kate’s shirt to get her to sit down next to her, “but first…” she repositioned her glasses, “why are you here Jess?”

 

“I’m returning Max’s wallet.”  Based on the way both of her very senior bosses were looking at her, Jess decided to answer with as few words as possible.

 

“Oh?”  Kate looked expectantly at Max, “thank you Gordy.”  She accepted the mug of coffee cautiously whilst she waited for Max to answer.

 

“I made it Mum.”  Jess’s head snapped round to look at Max, surprised.

 

“What?  She adopted me when I was fourteen.”

 

“You might have said!” said Jess, embarrassed.  

 

“I was going to…”

 

“I think…” began Osgood quietly, all too familiar with what would happen next if Max, Gordy and Kate kept going like this - and she didn’t want Jess to witness a family ‘debate’ just yet, “...that a few facts might be useful.  Interrupt if I’m wrong.”  But otherwise, her tone implied, if you’re a Lethbridge-Stewart keep quiet.  To Jess’ amazement, Kate and Max both appeared to visibly relax at this, clearly familiar and comfortable with Osgood intervening like this, and Gordy finished passing out the mugs of coffee, leaving the sugar and milk in easy reach of Jess for her to help herself to. As a result, she missed Osgood opening the banana and passing it to Kate with a pointed look.

 

“Kate, as Max said, adopted him twelve years ago.  Gordy and he have known each other since they were six.  They’ve known me since they were fifteen.”  Osgood sipped her coffee, “I’m _Kate’s_ girlfriend, not Max’s.”  She smiled, amused by the expressions on Max, Jess and Gordy’s faces, relieved Kate was occupied with eating her banana. “He hugged me in the corridor outside my lab because I remembered to buy some cinema tickets for him…”

 

“The original Star Wars trilogy, shown as a triple bill,” said Max, earning him a glare from Kate for interrupting, “what? That was a factual clarification!” he protested, not daring to go as far as saying that Osgood was wrong.

 

“Yes Max.  Stop glaring you…” Osgood looked at Kate and waited for Kate’s jaw to relax and continue eating her banana. “...You’d be the same if I called the camellia japonica “Black Lace” the ‘red one’,” pointed out Osgood reasonably, seeing the smile ghost across her lover’s face before, trusting that Kate had relaxed again, turned back to look at Jess, Max and Gordy and explained helpfully, “it’s the dark green glossy leaf plant on the terrace with the red flowers.”  

 

In spite of her on-going confusion and conflicting emotions, Jess couldn’t stop a smile of her own at this - she’d heard Kate Stewart described herself as an enthusiastic gardener but hadn’t actually taken it seriously… which meant she probably wasn’t exaggerating about her skill at Bridge either.

 

“I knew Max, Captain Stewart, had checked to see you were ok after that,” Osgood thought for a moment, trying to remember what Gordy already knew, “explosion because I recognised his handkerchief from his initials.  I gave it to him, he’s got four, as has Gordy.”

 

“Three,” said Gordy, looking embarrassed but knowing he needed to provide a ‘factual clarification’ of his own.

 

“Oh?” Osgood hadn’t known he’d lost one.

 

“You know how I didn’t get all my stuff back?  After it ended…” Gordy paused for a moment, waiting to see if anyone else had come up with a way to describe his ex-girlfriend yet.  Unsurprisingly, since neither Max or Kate had worked out how to refer to her out of Gordy’s earshot, they were equally silent in his earshot.  Therefore, with no one prepared to fill the almost pregnant silence his pause was turning into, Gordy continued, “...one of the things I never got back was a handkerchief, the one with the red stitching.”

 

“Ah.”  Osgood took a thoughtful sip of her coffee, “Max still has four?” she asked, seeing Max nod, then shrug and look at Jess.  “But you’ve got one of them Jess, and Gordy has three.”  Now that the facts were established with the handkerchiefs, Osgood decided she could move on.  “Max and Gordy have a standing invitation to dinner with us on a Thursday night,” continued Osgood, remembering the occasions when, in retrospect, Jess probably misunderstood what she was hearing or seeing, “which just leaves this morning…”  

 

“Gordy’s mentioned this was, is your flat.”  Jess decided to risk offering a ‘fact’.

 

“Ah, good. Kate and I slept in Max’s room last night - there’s a burst water main outside our house.  I’d just finished having a shower when you rang the doorbell.”  Osgood looked directly at Jess.  “Why did you ring the doorbell?”

 

“I still had Max’s wallet…” Jess looked at Max for help.

 

“We’d got ‘Boris Bikes’,” explained Max, talking about the bikes that could be picked up and dropped off at various points across the centre of London, “I couldn’t cycle with my wallet in my pocket, so Jess put it in her bag.  After I’d seen her home I took both bikes back to the nearest docking station…”  Max saw Kate’s face, “...I wheeled them Mum, promise,” he assured her, knowing she hated the fact that he used them without a cycle helmet, never mind the thought of him riding one whilst wheeling another at the same time.  He hadn’t done that since boarding school, and still had the scar on his shin to remind him that it was harder than he’d thought it would be, especially over cobbles..  

 

“I texted him when I found his wallet, and offered to bring it round this morning, if he could tell me where he lived.”

 

“It’s got my work ID in it,” added Max, knowing that Osgood was about to ask why he needed it today and not waited until Monday when they were both at the Tower.

 

“He didn’t say anything about you staying…” Jess looked questioningly at Max.

 

“I didn’t know.  I was still walking home when I got your text.”

 

“Didn’t you text him Gordy?” asked Kate, surprised - she’d been going to but then Gordy had pointed out that receiving a text message from your mother (even if your date didn’t actually know it was your mother) at the end of your date was not very cool: apparently brothers who could also be described as housemates were less socially awkward.

 

“My phone was dead, and you’d already gone to bed.  But I left him a note!”

 

“It was fine Mum.”  Max continued, primarily for Jess’ benefit, “I got back here about 1am, found my pillows and duvet on this couch, along with some clothes and Gord’s note telling me about you staying over.  I crashed out and then this morning, woke up and completely forgot to mention you were coming over with my wallet.  I was just getting a clean shirt from my room before Os finished her shower when you arrived…”

 

“And I was right!”

 

“Gordy…” warned Kate, not impressed with his interjection.

 

“Actually, he was…” Jess looked imploringly at Kate for some guidance on what to call her.

 

“Contrary to what most people at the Tower think, Kate’s fine,” she reassured the younger scientist.

 

“Gordy was right… Kate,” repeated Jess, using Kate’s name cautiously, like it might be the secret codeword that triggered an ejector seat or hidden explosives.

 

“He was?”  Osgood looked in surprise at Gordy.

 

“Stop teasing me!” he protested, “it does happen!”

 

“Occasionally…” admitted Max with grudgingly, nevertheless relaxing back into the couch, no longer sitting tensely on the very edge.

 

“He kept telling me…” Jess felt Max put his hand reassuringly on her back, causing her to smile and shift back so she too was no longer perched on the edge of the couch, but starting to relax in his, and his family’s presence once more.

 

“That whatever she thought she’d walked into was wrong.”

 

“Ah.  Well…” Osgood put her coffee mug down on the table, “...mystery solved.  Are you staying for brunch Jess?”

 

“I…” Surprised, Jess turned and looked at Max who was sitting with a silly grin on his face - clearly Jess wasn’t the only one a bit surprised by how the morning was turning out.

 

“I’ll make enough for five,” said Kate, standing up and holding out her hand to help Osgood up, “you can decide when Gordy sets the table.”

 

“After you’ve changed…” reminded Osgood quietly once she’d stood up, looking at Gordy pointedly.

 

“Sure, was going to anyway,” he agreed, standing up as well, not at all surprised that his appearance had been picked up on.  There weren’t many rules growing up with Kate as your mother, but one that still remained in place to this day was that, when they had a family meal on a Sunday, be it brunch, lunch or dinner, a ‘proper shirt’ with buttons and a collar would be worn; a well-worn (and loved) Nirvana t-shirt was not acceptable at the table..

 

“And your socks.”  Osgood looked at his toes which, as if by reflex, started to wiggle.

 

“Yes Os…”  Not in the least bit offended, Gordy amiably set off to his bedroom to change, leaving Max and Jess sat on the couch, looking up at Kate and Osgood.

 

“Will you bring the coffee things through?” asked Kate, knowing Osgood would start tidying them up otherwise.

 

“Sure Mum.”  

 

“Tip top.”  And, with a nod and a smile at the younger pair, Kate led Osgood to the kitchen.


	11. Order Restored... and Created

“That was…” Jess paused, not sure she had the confidence to finish her thought.

 

“Not very subtle?” suggested Max, watching Kate and Osgood leave, unable to not smile at their obviousness as far as he was concerned.

 

“I’m not complaining…” remarked Jess, putting her hand on his knee, attracting his attention away from the door.

 

“You’re not...oh!” Suddenly realising what she was thinking, Max put his hand on hers and grinned, liking the idea.

 

“Wait, you were talking about them leaving us on our own in here, weren’t you?” Jess watched him closely, seeing his nose twitch, a ‘tell’ Osgood could have told her meant him changing his mind.

 

“Maybe?” he hedged, wondering how she’d react.

 

“You mean…” Jess’ eyes went wide.  “They’re not…”  She looked towards the kitchen door, which was firmly closed.

 

“Probably…” He thought about how he could explain it in a way she would understand, “Mum and Os… they’re different to Kate Stewart and Osgood,” he frowned, realising the flaw in his theory, “except when they’re the same.”

 

“Makes sense,” agreed Jess, looking at him thoughtfully.

 

“But?”

 

“But what doesn’t make sense…” began Jess, moving her hand from his knee to the collar of his shirt, “...is why we’re talking when we’ve just established that no one’s going to interrupt us…”

 

* * *

  
  


“I could have brought the mugs through,” protested Osgood the minute the kitchen door was closed, not liking the idea of a job that was easily completable being left for someone else to do.

 

“I know you could have,” agreed Kate, quickly surveying the shopping which Max hadn’t put away yet and working out that it wasn’t going to take her very long to cook brunch, “but I wanted a reason for the two of them to stay in the living room…” explained Kate, leaning against the kitchen counter right in front of the shopping.

 

“And it wasn’t very subtle,” observed Osgood pointedly, picking up a tea towel and starting to do some of the drying that was left over from their earlier round of coffee.

 

“Or too subtle…” muttered Kate, wondering what Osgood was talking about.

 

“Pardon?”  Osgood turned to look at Kate, expecting to see her still on the far side of the kitchen, not stood right next to her, “and what are you doing?”

 

“If I have to explain…” began Kate, catching hold of one of her girlfriend’s belt loops and using it to gently encourage her to turn away from the sink and towards Kate, “...then we really…” she carefully took off Osgood’s glasses and put them on the draining rack, “...really…” she plucked the tea towel from Osgood’s unresisting fingers and tossed it in the general direction of the kitchen table, “...need to practice…” she finished, dipping her head forwards, intending to kiss Osgood.

 

“Wait!” Osgood jerked her head back just enough that she stayed tantalisingly out of Kate’s reach.

 

“What?”

 

“This was why you wanted to leave the mugs behind?”

 

“That’s one way of putting it…” 

 

“Oh, okay!”  Happy now she understood what Kate’s reasoning was for leaving behind the dirty coffee mugs, Osgood draped her arms around Kate’s neck and started to initiate her own kiss.

 

“Hang on…” Now it was Kate’s turn to jerk her head away at the last moment.

 

“What is it?” Osgood tried her best to keep the frustration out of her voice, but really, why was Kate asking questions?

 

“Why did you think I wanted you to leave the mugs behind?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”  Osgood tried to distract Kate by stroking the back of her neck.

 

“Os…”  Kate’s protest was token at best, and virtually disappeared completely when finally their lips met...almost.

 

“What?” asked Osgood, failing to keep the frustration out of her voice this time.

 

“Max and Jess… you thought I was… in here with you… so they could…but...”  Not wearing her glasses, Osgood couldn’t see the subtleties of Kate’s expression change as she spoke, but she could hear the tones of Kate’s voice shifting with each word as she steadily worked through what Osgood’s original thought had been, which, if Osgood wanted to be kissed before pancakes, meant action was required, immediately.

 

“Shut up and kiss me Lethbridge…”

 

“Yes dear…” Kate’s retort was dry but teasing... and almost drowned out by the simultaneous sounding of their phones receiving messages.  It wasn’t the first time they’d been interrupted by work, and it wouldn’t be the last, but that didn’t make ‘duty’ any easier to bear.  “Are you going to look or shall I?”

 

“My glasses are nearer…” grumbled Osgood pragmatically, reaching for her phone as Kate retrieved the glasses from the draining rack.  “Thanks…” she put them on as she unlocked the screen.

 

“Well?”

 

“How fast can you cook pancakes?” asked Osgood, grinning as she read the message.

 

“Why?”

 

“Water’s back…” said Osgood, putting her phone back in her pocket and once more wrapping her arms around Kate’s neck.

 

“So we can go home?” checked Kate, deciding she’d had enough of accidental misunderstandings for one day.

 

“Mmm…” agreed Osgood, finally managing to steal a kiss.  “...pancakes first…” she mumbled, in between kisses, “...need big brunch…”

 

“We do?” asked Kate, breaking their kiss only long enough to ask her question.

 

“Mmm… busy afternoon…” promised Osgood, smiling against Kate’s lips as she suddenly felt the familiar dig of the kitchen worktop in the small of her back when Kate turned them around so she was leaning back against the counter “...but I’ll cook supper…”

 

“What’s on the menu?” asked Kate, taking the opportunity of their changed position to start kissing along Osgood’s jaw.

  
“Cheese sandwiches…”


End file.
